


Nightmare before Christmas

by legolastariel



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Carl is alive, Carl will always be alive in my stories, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Baggage, Established Relationship, Guilt, I refuse to accept the canon shit, Jealousy, M/M, Making Up, POV Rick Grimes, Relationship Issues, Repeat - Happy Ending, Richonne never existed, Sleeping Together, They've been together since the farm, did I mention happy ending?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-02-16 15:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13056774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legolastariel/pseuds/legolastariel
Summary: The war is over.The Saviors are defeated, the communities have won, but problems are far from being solved. Especially Rick and Daryl's relationship has suffered when their clashing opinions and lack of trust has driven a wedge between them.They are about to have the "We need to talk" conversation that each couple fears and Rick is dreading the worst.But he's in for a surprise. And his greatest Christmas wish is about to come true.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ssyn3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssyn3/gifts).



> The first two chapters were heavily influenced by the dark mood and conflict between them right before and after their fight in 8a. That's when I started writing. So, this story is rather depressing in the beginning (I know, I know ... just what we need), but stay with it - chapter 3 will make up for it. Promise.
> 
> Thanks a lot to my wonderful beta staceykc, who despite the Christmas hassle took the time to correct my errors. I appreciate it, dear!

**_ Nightmare before Christmas _ **

 

  
_It’s over._

That’s what everybody said the day the Saviors finally surrendered, hostilities ceased and an immense wave of joy and relief washed over the population of the three communities. 

The fighting had lasted way longer than expected and the number of casualties was sickening. They had estimated a few days when they had started all this, but a war never ran on schedule. Some battles were won, but others were lost and those had way more impact on people than the days they actually had reasons to smile. With each lost beloved one, hope, defiance and the will to fight crumbled in some of their people, while others fought twice as fiercely, rage and hate letting them lose focus more often than not and spin out of control. Neither was helpful, neither served their cause. But people were unpredictable, especially under pressure, and their actions and reactions, triggered by the immense vortex of emotions raging in all of them, had _the plan_ falter often enough and given the enemy a benefit.   
It was the same on the Saviors’ side, and so open battle that should have ended after only few days, turned into some kind of sparring match with punches going back and forth time and time again.   
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months until the outposts were finally defeated. The Sanctuary had fallen and the last Savior groups that were hiding out in the woods or in abandoned buildings were faced with lack of supplies and the cold of the approaching winter, and thus had opted to surrender. 

The war was over.

True. But _it_ was far from being over. _It_ was the fear, the hate, the fury, the grief, the feeling of “them and us” that made dealing with the surviving Saviors more of an issue these days than during the war, and split their people into two opposed groups.   
In a way, hostilities were still underway – the battles just weren’t fought with guns any longer, but that didn’t make them less serious or less painful.

 

With a heavy sigh Rick Grimes opened his eyes to a new day of having to deal with the aftermath of the war – out there in the communities, in Alexandria, but most importantly here in his own home.   
He had woken up alone. Again. And when he reached out a hand and placed it on the other side of the bed now, he felt it was cold. If Daryl had slept there at all that night, he had left early that morning. Had snuck out without saying good bye or placing a kiss on Rick’s head the way he used to do before the war, before anger, grief and clashing opinions had come between them.

Running his hands tiredly over stinging eyes, Rick sat up with a heart as heavy as lead. Maybe it wasn’t just the war that was over. The leader couldn’t help thinking that, while everybody else was celebrating their victory, he may be facing his greatest defeat. 

Reluctantly he got up, stretched the tense muscles in this shoulders and back and then shuffled into the bathroom with weary steps. He was going through the motions, washing up and getting dressed without really focusing on what he was doing.   
Another day that was unlikely to bring a smile to his face, another day people would look to him for answers and guidance, a new _plan_ , a reason to go on despite their losses. 

Pulling in a deep breath, Rick opened the bedroom door and headed across the corridor to the nursery to look after Judith. His adorable, sweet, innocent little daughter. _Li’l Asskicker_ , he couldn’t help thinking with the stinging sensation returning to his eyes.   
Alexandria was a good place to raise her, a good place to live, a place worth fighting for. And yet there were days that Rick missed the prison, when he only had to keep a handful of people safe in a much smaller world. Despite them lacking practically all conveniences this town here provided, those days had been easier, happier even – maybe because Daryl had still been on his side back then. 

Rick opened the colorfully painted door of the nursery and peeked in. Judith was awake and sat in her little bed, cradling the old beloved stuffed bunny Daryl had gotten her on a run when she was still a baby. “Bunno”, which had been her first attempt to say the word “bunny”, was her one and only – next to her daddy, Carl and papa Daryl.   
She was too young to give it some thought why other children had a mom and a dad, while she had two daddies, but one day she would notice, would ask questions, would want to know who her “real” father was.   
Another question Rick didn’t have the answer to. What made a man a “real” father?   
The fact that it was his sperm that had brought this new life into the world? Hardly.   
He had seen the scars on his partner’s back often enough and Daryl’s _father_ failed that definition in any respect Rick could think of. So whether or not this was in fact Shane Walsh’s baby, his late friend would never be Judith’s father.  
He hadn’t been there to cradle her, keep her safe, provide food, clothes and a home, play with her and shower her with an immense amount of love. No, that had been Daryl. Maybe even more than Rick himself because Daryl, like no one else Rick had ever met, used to have this huge amount of love to give, but only very few people in his life to give it to, very few people he thought would care for it at all.  
These days Rick wondered sometimes if that love was still there, buried deep inside, concealed in that golden heart Daryl used to have as though it was a treasure that needed to be hidden and kept a secret.   
The same way they had erected walls around their towns to protect them against attacks from the outside world, Daryl had erected walls around that heart, too. Again. 

Rick pressed his lips together to a thin line.   
Damaged houses could be rebuilt, destroyed gardens and fields laid out anew, but what this war and the Saviors had done to Daryl’s heart and soul might never heal again. How was he to celebrate a victory when all he felt was loss?

         “Good morning, sweetheart”, he greeted the little girl and the mere sight of his daughter did bring a smile to his face after all. 

She held her chubby arms out to him and he lifted her up and gave her cute little nose a nudge with his index finger.

         “Did you sleep well?”

Golden locks bounced when she nodded, right before the bunny was pushed in his face and the smile melted into a grin.

         “Morning, Bunno. Did you sleep well, too?” he played along.

They must have had the same conversation countless times before and the procedure was always the same. Bunno nodded his head ‘Yes’ to the question in a very reliable way and then Judy would smack her lips in the unspoken request for breakfast. She didn’t talk much, although the entire town was jabbering to her most of the day.   
Yet she would sit still and quietly with big, watchful eyes, observe what was going on around her or play by herself, that tiny knowing smile playing around her lips. It indicated that she saw and heard the world around her, just didn’t require it necessary to add more sound by saying words out loud, when she could just as well convey her thoughts and emotions by looks alone. Yes, she was definitely Daryl’s daughter more than Rick’s. 

With the toddler on his arm Rick stepped out of the room and almost collided with Carl right in front of the door. 

         “Morning”, the man greeted the teenager with questioningly raised eyebrows. “You’re up early. What’s going on?”

Not only was Carl up at this hour, but also dressed and presentable and apparently headed to his sister’s room to take care of her.   
The boy cocked his head that identified _him_ to be a Grimes without a doubt and then reached out to lift Judith off his father’s arm.

         “Dad.” He sounded as though he was talking to Judith, not his father. “Did you forget the coucil meeting this morning? You scheduled it yourself like two days ago. Remember?” 

Nope, actually Carl sounded as though he was talking to a senile old man and on any other day Rick might have given him a piece of his mind for that kind of disrespectful behavior. But fact of the matter was – he did forget. Hadn’t given the entire newly revived council thing any thought at all in those two days. 

         “Shit”, he muttered under his breath, watching Carl’s eyebrows being raised for swearing in front of Judith. “Would you take care of … “

He stopped in midsentence when he realized that he was requesting a favor the boy was already in the process of doing. God, he needed a break. 

         “You’re on the council as well”, Rick added quickly to cover his little witty remark, but couldn’t help noticing the somewhat sad smile that flashed over his son’s face.  
          
“I _know_ , dad. But I’ve already had breakfast and I’m ready to go. I’m gonna get Judy dressed and take her over to Barbara’s then, okay? Meet you there.” 

Without waiting for a reply he headed back into the nursery with his baby sister, while Rick just nodded absentmindedly before turning to the stairs. 

Council meeting. They hadn’t had one in ages, he thought. Back at the prison, after he had announced that he didn’t want the Ricktatorship anymore and would rather re-establish democracy, building a coucil and making decisions together had proven to be the best way to play it. It had taken the burden of responsibility off his shoulders and everyone of that exclusive circle had participated, had done their share of carrying the load, had made suggestions that helped with finding solutions together.  
When and why had they stopped playing it that way? Why hadn’t there been a coucil in Alexandria up until now?  
Faced with the challenge of rebuilding an entire town – not just the damaged buildings, but also the spirit of the people living there – Rick had announced his wish for a new coucil. He didn’t have the strength to do it all by himself. And that’s how he felt these days – left to his own devices, alone, standing in front of a huge mountain of problems with no one to give him a hand up. Rick had done the heavy lifting by himself for too long now and it was starting to break him.

For a second he thought about going back to the nursery to asked Carl if he had seen Daryl this morning, but he reconsidered. The archer was informed about the council meeting. Naturally he’d be a part of it and was probably going to meet him there as well. Probably. Hopefully. Maybe.

As soon as Rick entered the kitchen, he made a beeline for the coffee machine – and, with his heart skipping a beat, froze in the motion the moment he reached it.   
There was already a full pot of what passed as coffee these days waiting for him and next to it sat a large chocolate chip cookie on the breakfast counter. Daryl. He had made coffee and left one of his beloved and extremely valued cookies for him.   
         Rick’s heart picked up its pace and a wave of joy washed over him.  
The archer had a sweet tooth and chocolate was very rare these days, but Daryl had always shared special treats like this with Rick - because Rick had been even more important to him than all the candy in the world. The leader didn’t have this craving for sugar the way his partner did, but the mere fact that Daryl still shared with him, still considered him the one person he would give his last chocolate chip cookie to, made this simple gesture all the more meaningful.

After he had poured himself a cup of the dark, steaming brew and took a sip, Rick ran the tip of his index finger thoughtfully over the rim of the anything-but-round cookie. 

Anyone taking the time to make cookies at all these days used glasses or cups to get them into a perfectly round shape, the way they were supposed to be. Not that it mattered or made them taste any better, but people for the most part still held on to old habits as though they meant to maintain a little bit of what was _normal._  
Carol Peletier along with all the members of Rick’s original group had stopped thinking that way a long time ago. They had lost the camp at the quarry, the farm, the prison and countless people on the way – family members, friends and folks they had barely known. They knew hunger and thirst, being cold and a victim of the elements, while fear had been their constant companion.   
There was no such thing as _normal_ anymore. Chaos was the new world order and Carol couldn’t have cared less whether her cookies were round or square or looked like a pile of shit. Daryl had told both her and Denise often enough that what they pulled out of their ovens sure did look like shit – but he ate it anyway. 

Rick cocked his head again, while a frown spread over his face.  
This was, without a doubt, one of Carol’s cookies. When had Daryl been to the Kingdom? Or had Carol been to Alexandria without anybody telling him? Daryl had been on a hunting trip the previous day, but that wouldn’t have taken him all the way to the Kingdom – unless he had kept that a secret deliberately. 

The frown on Rick’s face increased.  
Why would he do that? He probably just forgot. Didn’t think it was important to mention. Maybe …

Someone knocking at the front door and entering without even waiting for a reply, ended Rick’s train of thought.

         “I was gonna do one of those knock-knock jokes”, Tara announced happily while she walked up to him and reached for the coffee mug in his hand without bothering to ask for allowance, “but …”

She opted for taking a sip instead of finishing the sentence and Rick couldn’t help cocking his head once again.

         “Help yourself”, he commented dryly when she wouldn’t return the mug, but took a few more sips. 

         “Thanks”, she replied with a grin. 

The mug was most obviously claimed. Shaking his head to himself, Rick pulled another one out of the kitchen cabinet and filled it up. Did anyone in this place still respect him at all?   
A question he had asked himself more than once during the war, when more than just one person did _not_ stick to the plan, ignored his orders and instead had gone behind his back to do their own thing. One of these people was standing right in front of him in that moment, drinking _his_ coffee, two more were living with him in this house and the list wasn’t complete with these three.   
Next to the battles against the Saviors, they had all of them fought even more battles among themselves in all three of the communities. It was a miracle in itself that they won that war, but time would tell if there hadn’t been even more casualties than they were aware of at the moment.   
Friendships, relationships, trust, affection … Quite a lot of those may be lying on the field of victory, waiting to be laid to rest. 

         “Ready?” 

         “Sure”, he lied. 

He had been reminded of that meeting only about ten minutes ago, hadn’t had the time to eat anything yet, thanks to this obnoxious person, or drink a decent cup of coffee. Why the heck would he be ready?   
But nobody ever wanted to hear the truth when asking this question, just like no one ever expected to hear anything else than ‘fine’ when asking someone how they felt. Nobody was ever really ready for what needed to be done these days and they would never be ‘fine’ again after what they’ve all been through. But just like round cookies these empty phrases were a part of _normality._

Rick took a sip and then nodded towards the door.

         “I’m gonna make this coffee-to-go”, he announced. “Let’s go.”

On passing the fridge, he hesitated a moment, then opened it and poured some milk into his coffee. Before he stirred it with a spoon from a nearby drawer he added a sugar cube as well, watching thoughtfully for a moment as the milk built a pattern of whirling clouds in the dark brew.

         “Earth to Rick Grimes”, Tara said, dipping her head to get his attention. 

When he looked up, she smiled at him again and then reached towards the breakfast counter.

         “Mind if I have that cookie?”

         “Tara”, his inflection was sharp as a knife. “You wanna keep that hand?”

She froze in her motion and slowly pulled her arm back. 

         “Oookaaay, I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

         “Smart girl”, Rick commented dryly, “you’ll go far.”

A smile tugged on the corners of his lips.

         _“Friendship ends when it comes to chocolate.”_

That appeared to be Daryl’s life motto and could be altered or extended when it came to his bike, the crossbow or his angel wing vest.   
And right here and now Rick agreed – friendship ended when it came to chocolate. Or rather, this one particular very special chocolate chip cookie.   
He returned to where it lay, put it almost cautiously into a box and hid it in the back of the kitchen cabinet behind the cups and glasses. 

         “Like really now?” Tara asked, while she pulled a face.

         “Like really now, absolutely”, Rick confirmed. 

He’d save that cookie for later. Maybe he could share it with Daryl – after all, the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, right? And more than anything else Rick wanted to find that way again, whatever it took.   
Maybe they could find some time for themselves later – to try and work things out, to talk … or just stare at each other, for all he cared. Rick wouldn’t even have minded the latter, if it meant Daryl would be looking him straight in the eyes again. He could barely remember the last time that happened. 

On his way to the door, Rick grabbed an apple on passing the fruit bowl and pushed it in Tara’s hand, before picking up one for himself.

         “Here. That’s better for you anyway”, he said, before taking a bite and, with the apple between his teeth, pulled the front door open.

         “Yes, mom”, the young woman muttered with an eye-roll while she walked out onto the front porch. 

With an unexpected third smile that day Rick followed her outside, but it faded as soon as the door had fallen closed behind him.

 

To revive the council was a good idea, something he should have done a long time ago. Maybe things would have been different.   
Despite numerous people telling him otherwise, Rick had never stopped blaming himself. Maybe, if he had laid low, if he hadn’t provoked the Saviors, there would never have been a war and countless lives would have been saved. It had been his arrogance, his firm conviction that he was invincible that had set an avalanche in motion. No man should ever make decisions about the fate of an entire town all by themself.   
Why these people still believed in him and looked up to him, was beyond Rick. He had lost that confidence in himself quite some time ago without being able to pin it down to a certain moment. The day the enemy had attacked Alexandria and had destroyed larger parts of it? Or the night Glenn and Abraham had been killed right in front of his eyes? Maybe even before that? When he had witnessed Daryl dig the grave for Denise, drinking to numb his pain without Rick being able to shield him from it, to make him feel better, to take the guilt and fury away that were seething inside his partner?   
It had started back then that the light of Daryl Dixon had faded and darkness had crept into his beautiful soul – and he, Rick, hadn’t acknowledged it in time, hadn’t realized how severely hurt Daryl had been. Maybe he could have prevented that the man he loved turned into his darker self.   
Maybe Glenn and Abraham’s deaths could have been prevented, too. And all those who had followed. If only he had listened. When had he stopped to listen?

Rick dragged his feet over the pavement, while Tara and he were headed to the Monroe house. His feet seemed to be made of lead all of a sudden and he had a hard time not spilling his coffee while he staggered along like a walker, bare of all strength suddenly.   
What was he even doing here? They didn’t need him. He wasn’t the right man for the job. Maybe he’d never been. And he didn’t have the strength to keep pretending. His strength wasn’t with him anymore. 

Daryl. A single nod or shaking of his head used to be Rick’s guideline, the second option he used to rely on. Equals, side by side, together, a unit – that used to be _them_. Until Rick had started to make his decisions alone, had stopped looking to Daryl for advice, even ignored the archer’s opinion when it was voiced nevertheless, because no matter what, Daryl had always stood loyally by him, even if he didn’t agree.   
At one point Rick hadn’t expected anything else anymore, had assumed for Daryl to just go along with whatever he said or did.    
An assumption that backfired the day the archer had told him ‘no’, told him he wasn’t his dog who’d mindlessly follow any command. Rick had understood too late that it wasn’t Daryl having a different opinion on matters that had the archer turn away from him. It was the fact that he didn’t _ask_ for Daryl’s opinion anymore, had started to decide for both of them as though his partner had no mind of his own.    
Rick remembered how the archer had told him a long time ago that he had fallen in love with him during that rescue mission for Merle, back in Atlanta. When Rick had put his own life at stake to team up with a Dixon, had paid attention to what Daryl had to say, what he wanted and how he felt. No one else had ever done that before and since that day Rick had always done right by his friend.    
Until he hadn’t. When for no reason whatsoever he had started treating Daryl the same way Merle and everybody else used to – like a shadow. Someone who just followed that step behind without a voice of his own. 

On top of all the pain Daryl already suffered, Rick might have inflicted the greatest of them all without even realizing it. And now it might have been too late.    
That wedge between them, that gap they seemed to be unable to bridge – that was on him. And if that unique and beautiful bond between him and his man was broken, that was his fault and the loss that pained him the most. How was he supposed to go on without the other half of his soul?

         “Have you seen Daryl this morning?” Rick asked unexpectedly. 

Tara started coughing when a piece of her apple went down the wrong pipe and with a frown the leader patted her back until she had composed herself. 

         “Why?” she replied in the end, still trying to catch her breath.  
          
         “Why what?” The way she was most obviously trying to buy time set alarm bells off in the back of his mind. “Just answer the question. Do you know where Daryl is?”

The young woman cleared her throat once more and just opened her mouth to reply, when Rick noticed her tense up and pull in a deep, shuddering breath.    
The infirmary had just come into sight and apparently just seeing her late girlfriend’s old home hit Tara twice as hard these days than it had before. The war had been a distraction, gave her a purpose and as long as she’d been going from one mission to the next she never had the time to think too much, to let the realization really hit home that Denise would never come back. But now …

There was no one to celebrate their victory with. No one to build a future with in this liberated, larger world. No one to hold her tight in nights that were too quiet and haunted by nightmares. A fate she shared with Aaron and countless others.

“How are you coping these days?” Rick asked cautiously and watched Tara shrug with a sigh.

“I don’t know. Some days are better than others and … I still miss her, a lot, and … we should have killed him.”

It was Rick’s turn to sigh.

         “Tara. You and me and Daryl, we’ve been over this a gazillion times.”

         “Doesn’t change how I feel”, she replied stubbornly. “Or Daryl.”

         “It should. It will. Because you did the right thing, both of you. You know, once you’ve done it a couple of times, killing someone gets easier, but it never makes it right. Not in most cases that is. If you do it to save the life of someone you love or your own, that’s one thing, but revenge …”

         “He killed Denise.”

         “He said it was an accident. He wasn’t aiming for her. He wasn’t aiming for _anyone._ And you know damn well that he was an immense help during the war. Fact is – without him we may have lost.”

“Maybe.”

“Probably”, Rick insisted. “You know, believing that it was the right thing to kill someone or the only possible way, doesn’t necessarily mean it really was. But each one, each of these faces is gonna stay with you and you’re lucky when the day never comes.”

Tara furrowed her brow.

         “What day?”

“The day you realize that you were wrong. That you took the wrong side too quickly … “ He couldn’t help thinking of that Ethan guy, whom he had killed to save a bastard like Gregory. “Or that you just didn’t try hard enough to find another way.”

He swallowed thickly against the raspy sensation in the back of his throat. How many times had he screw up? Had challenged the wrong people, like Negan or the Governor. Maybe there would have been another way, but he tried finding it too late, when the avalanche was already in motion and couldn’t be stopped anymore.

         “You know, Tara, ending a life is a matter of seconds, but once it’s done, you cannot take it back and … with each one you killed too easily, the burden on your conscience will get harder to bear. I hope I never have to do it again. And no one else, either.”

He cast the young woman next to him a side glance and could see it in the way her lips were pressed together to a thin line and the furrowed brows, that there was an inner battle raging inside of her.    
She had heard him and she probably did see his point, but to understand it in your head and accept it in your heart were two entirely different things. And she and Daryl had fought the same battle for a long time now. 

         “Tara, we all did lots of things that were wrong. Things we feel sorry for. Dwight is no exception. After what happened in the burned forest Daryl told me more than once that he wished he would have killed him there and then. It may have saved Denise, yes, and if she hadn’t died, Daryl wouldn’t have gone on that vendetta, Glenn hadn’t followed him and never ended up in the line-up. Probably. Maybe. But fact is, if Daryl had killed Dwight back then, we would have lost the war and countless more people would have died.”

She just looked at him silently for an incredibly long moment, gritting her teeth and once more fighting that inner battle.    
Tara knew he was right. Dwight’s help had been invaluable and he deserved to live. But then again – he killed Denise. Period. Accident or not – he killed Denise. He was one of _them,_ helped them, was a part in torturing Daryl. He might have been forced to do what he did, because he was thinking of Sherry, but that didn’t change one fact – he killed Denise. Letting that bastard walk free was the hardest thing she ever had to do. But maybe Rick was right – killing Dwight wouldn’t bring Denise back. It would only make another part of Tara’s soul wither and die. Maybe it was time to look forward, try and start over new. 

         “Still, if I ever gonna meet that douchebag again, I’m so gonna kick his ass into next week.”

Rick laughed out loud and felt his heart grow a little lighter. She was gonna make it, would be able to put the past behind herself and move on. He couldn’t help wondering for a moment, if Daryl would ever be able to do the same. If they both would.

         “Papa!”

His daughter’s voice behind his back distracted him and made him turn around. Carl followed a few yards behind them, his sister on his arm, to head over to Barbara’s.  
Ever since they had lost Olivia, the young, red-haired woman had volunteered several times in the past to babysit for Judith, and Li’l Asskicker liked her. But then, she pretty much liked everybody living in this town. The only time she had not smiled her tiny, knowing smile and had just stared deadpan, was when Negan had dared hold her.  
That girl seemed to have the sixth sense when it came to knowing who was worth her trust and affection – a gift Rick had envied her for more than once.   
A wide smile had spread over Judith’s face and she was squirming on Carl’s arm, urging him to place her down. As soon as her little feet touched the ground she ran straight to the nearest house, where the front door had just opened and Daryl had appeared on the front porch.

Rick’s heart missed a beat. It always did as soon as Daryl was in sight, but this was different just now.    
He had missed his partner, had been looking forward to see him after waking up by himself, but these days he faced the archer with an odd mix of joy and fear, happiness and hesitation. Daryl had been like a minefield for quite a while now and it was impossible to predict what might set him off. One wrong word, the wrong inflection, the wrong move … Rick hated to feel like that. He was longing to feel at ease around Daryl again, safe, _whole_ , and the thought that it might never be that way again pained him deeply. 

On seeing Judith come running his way, the archer hurried down the front steps of the house and sat on one of the lower ones, holding out his arms to the girl with a wide smile on his face. Only Judith made him smile like that.

         “Papaaaa!” she squealed happily, throwing herself into her pa’s arms and effectively bumping her knee into his stomach.

He gave a grunt, counting his blessings that her knee hadn’t hit him in the lower departments, and gave the little girl a tight hug.    
She pulled back first, placing her hands to either side of his face and patting his cheeks gently, while he ran tender circles on her back. Neither of them said a word – they just looked each other in the eyes and communicated through looks and gestures alone. There was a very special bond between them, a bond Daryl had built with only very few people in his life and Rick was happy that Judith was still able to reach him, to bring a smile to his face when no one else seemed to be able to.

In that moment the archer looked up and noticed Rick, Tara and Carl standing motionless in the street, watching them. Before either could say a word, Aaron appeared in the doorway behind Daryl’s back and pulled the front door of his house closed.

          “Morning!” the tall man greeted with a wave of his hand, barely able to conceal his surprise.

For a moment Rick couldn’t help thinking that Carl used to have the same expression each time Lori or he had caught the boy with the hand in the cookie jar when he was little.

          “Ready to go”, Aaron added nonchalantly, while he headed down the steps to meet up with Rick and Tara.

Daryl whispered something in Judith’s ear that triggered a stubborn shaking of her head. Only after the archer added a kiss to her chubby cheek, the girl reluctantly allowed Carl to lift her up again and take her to Barbara’s place.  
While Aaron and Tara took the lead and headed to the Monroe house, Daryl approached Rick with the ghost of a smile shortly flashing across his face. It was there for just that split second, but Rick had seen it nevertheless and once more his heart skipped a beat. Even the tiniest sign of affection was heart-balm these days.  
Daryl stopped right in front of his partner, clearly invading his personal space, but not touching. Even _before –_ before the war and things between them starting to go south – standing close like this in most cases was all the intimacy there had been in public and it would probably never be any other way. Dixons didn’t put their emotions on display, didn’t kiss or hold hands for the world to see and they didn’t say ‘I love you’, either. It had always been a challenge for Rick to respect all this, but as long as he had gotten all of Daryl’s love and devotion behind closed doors, he hadn’t minded. _Before._

          “Mornin’”, Daryl said gently. 

          “Morning.” A smile tugged on Rick’s lips. “You were up early.”

Shadow blue eyes were lowered instantly.

         “Couldn’t sleep”, Daryl answered in a strained inflection.

“Huh.” 

That was probably not just an alibi. Nobody slept well these days. They were all still haunted by what they had seen these past months, and by what they had _done._ Rick decided not to probe deeper and said instead:

         “Thanks for the cookie.”

Again a tiny smile flashed over the archer’s face.

         “D’ya like it?”

         “I didn’t eat it yet. I thought maybe we could share, later.” 

Daryl’s eyes flicked up for a moment, before they were lowered again. 

         “’s yer cookie.”

         “Right. And that makes it yours, too.”

For a short breathless moment it was quiet between them, then Daryl replied:

         “We ain’t married or nothin’.”

It sounded defensive, but Rick didn’t buy it. Ever since the day the archer had tossed that string of squirrels at him he had looked right through that defensive behavior. Daryl hadn’t been angry back then – he’d been scared, confused, insecure. Same as now. 

         “You know”, the leader said softly, dipping his head to be able to look his partner in the eyes, “there’s cultures where giving someone a cookie is like being engaged.”

The remark made Daryl chuckle despite himself.

         “Ya said the same crap ‘bout tossin’ squirrels at someone’s head.”

         “Right, so we’re engaged like twice now. That’s technically like being married.”

         “Huh, so whatever’s yers ‘s mine, too, then?”

         “Yup.”

         “Fine. Then lemme have some a’ that coffee, man.”

With a smile Rick held his mug out to Daryl and it was accepted with a thankful nod, before the archer took a sip of the cooling brew. His face lit up visibly.

         “D’ya put milk ‘n’ sugar in it?”

         “Uh-huh. I know you like it better that way.”

This time Daryl’s eyes met Rick’s and the look in them had the younger man shudder. For just that moment, just a couple of heartbeats he saw the same look in Daryl’s eyes that he had cast him all these years ago, in a building in Atlanta when they had tried to save Merle.   
Gratefulness. Respect. Admiration. Trust. Affection. Hope. For just a split second. And then it was gone again when Daryl averted his eyes and nodded to the Monroe house.

         “Best get goin’. They’re waitin’ for ya.” 

         “Us.” 

         “Nah, jus’ you. No one wants _me_ there.”

         “I do”, Rick said determinedly, before he added mentally: _“Are you with me?”_

And as though he heard him, Daryl nodded silently.   
He held the mug out to Rick and when the younger man accepted it, their fingers grazed. The archer held the contact a few heartbeats too long for a coincidence, then he pulled his hand back and wordlessly started walking towards the newly assigned town hall.    
         

 

The Monroe house was unoccupied ever since Spencer died and the original plan had been to have new people move in asap. Space was rare in a small town like this, families were expanding with babies being born and new couples needing a place of their own. But plans had a tendency to fall through, especially during a war.  
They had lost so many people that space was no longer a problem – on the contrary. Those who survived the Saviors were moving closer together, now that the war was over. Traumatized and scared they rather shared a house with others than lived alone. Companions meant safety, distraction, someone to lend a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on. Thus the old Monroe house was still not lived in and served them well as a town hall now.   
With his _spouse_ by his side, Rick approached the building hesitantly. What exactly he expected of that meeting, he couldn’t even tell. The council was a good idea, no doubt. But it had been his suggestion and dollars to donuts everyone there would expect him to be the head of it, too. The chairman.   
Fact was, he didn’t want to be head of anything anymore. He felt like he had carried that burden long enough – too long – and they had best elect someone new as leader of Alexandria. Someone who was able to keep a level head at all times and didn’t let his ego get in the way. Someone like Maggie.   
Maybe they had best have women lead all the communities – male egos seemed to have the tendency to turn into megalomania at times. Had otherwise quite reasonable men swing bats like they were Thor’s hammer, announce themselves king or invincible. Hell, he himself had made untenable threats while being alone and surrounded by opponents, wearing no more than his boxer shorts. Some self-confidence, Rick Grimes. 

_ “Michonne would be perfect to lead this community” _ , Rick thought before realization punched him in the guts. 

Michonne would _have been_ perfect to lead this community, but she wasn’t with them anymore. Just like countless others. Many. Too many. Filling that huge gap, that painful, dark hollow their death had left behind, seemed to be impossible. This sure was going to be a small council and Rick dreaded to start that meeting.

 

When they were gathered around the large dining table and the leader was faced with the few people assembled, he had to swallow thickly against a lump in his throat.   
It was one thing knowing how many of their family were gone, but it was something entirely different to call in a meeting and actually _see_ all the empty chairs.   
Seven. No more had come. Only him and Daryl, Carl, Tara, Rosita, Aaron and Tobin, and the latter was only there to have an uneven number, to enable a veto. The man had fought bravely and had grown on Rick, but he wasn’t family. The group would always be _the group_ and Aaron was the only one who had been included in that circle when he had become friends with Daryl. Exceptions proved the rule.

With a sigh Rick gestured for everyone to be seated and then let his eyes once more wander over the faces that were expectantly turned his way.  
Michonne should have been here, same as Glenn, Abraham, Sasha, Morgan and Gabriel. But they had lost all of them.   
Maggie and Enid were living in Hilltop and the baby was due any day now. Carol decided to stay in the Kingdom and word had it that she and Ezekiel were really hitting it off. Those were good news and yet all three of these ladies were missing at the table now. Rick missed seeing their faces on a daily base and he knew that Daryl did, too. 

Carol would always be special to the archer. They had a common ground, shared experiences in something that no one should ever experience at all and it had drawn them together right from the start. They understood the other one’s trauma, could relate to each other’s feelings in a way that no one possibly could who’d never known abuse. And right now Daryl probably needed Carol more than ever before.   
          
Maggie. The more her belly had swollen, the more Daryl had felt his guilt weighing on his soul. That was Glenn’s baby in there, yet he would never see his child, wouldn’t hold it the way Daryl and Rick had held Judy, wouldn’t be there to see his son or daughter grow up. Maggie was alone, without the love of her life and the father of her child. And despite her telling Daryl a gazillion times that she didn’t blame him, the archer had never stopped blaming himself. Glenn had left a void that no one and nothing would ever be able to fill and they all missed him achingly.   
Rick knew that deep down inside Daryl had sworn an oath to take care of Maggie and her child, be there when they needed him, do whatever it took so they would live this life as happy and well provided for as only possible. How was he supposed to do that, living in Alexandria?

Daryl was torn. Torn between the need to be with both, Carol and Maggie. Whether he still needed Rick by his side at all, the leader couldn’t tell for sure. If so, it would only make matters worse, for no one was able to live in three places at the same time and winter was coming. Soon the roads may be blocked by snow and would separate the communities for months to come.   
Daryl had to make a decision and Rick dreaded that whichever way it was going to turn out, it wouldn’t be in his favor. 

With a suppressed sigh he lowered himself onto his chair, mentally deleting the first item on his agenda. There would be no new leader – it was senseless to even bring this up. He trusted and respected everyone in this room and valued their opinions and support, but not one had what it took to lead.   
Carl might one day, but he didn’t have the years and experience yet that was required to be responsible for the lives of everyone living in this town. Daryl was well able to take over the helm for a while when it was required, when it meant doing some of the heavy lifting because no one else could, but he hated doing it, hated to be the center of attention. As for the others … nope, no way.   
Again, Rick suppressed a sigh. This task was appointed to him and it would probably be his until the day he died, whether he wanted it or not. There would be no vacation, no break, no breather, not for a single day.   
It was moments like this when he truly and deeply missed Shane. He really did. There was no denying the fact that Shane did a good job leading the group before Rick had found his family back then. His old friend had made decisions, had cared for these people, had the power and strength to have them listen to him and keep things going. The two of them had always worked well together, were a good team – before the apocalypse and after. But Shane wasn’t there anymore. 

         “Rick?” 

Daryl’s voice next to him drew Rick’s attention and with an apologetic air the leader focused on the faces around him.

         “Sorry. I … I did have kind of an agenda, but I’d like to play this differently. Tara, could you take the minutes, please? I’d like to make a list of all the things that need to be taken care of asap and I need you all to tell me what you think is most important. Be that building a second wall or new guard towers, repair the damaged houses or figure out how to deal with the surviving Saviors. Whatever. Lemme hear your thoughts.” 

For a moment Rick wondered how Shane would have handled things during the war or at the prison when the Governor had been the enemy. What would have been top on the list for his old friend? What would Hershel have to say now? Or Dale? Andrea? T-Dog? Beth? Lori?  
An endless line of names and faces invaded Rick’s mind all of a sudden and like a wave all the memories and emotions washed over the leader and had him gasp. His heart ached. For the longest time he had felt as though he was at a never-ending funeral, laying one beloved person after the other to rest and for a moment he couldn’t help staring – staring at Carl, then Daryl, all of the people here, one by one. As though to make sure they were really still there.   
The words said around him didn’t register anymore. Everyone was participating and Tara wrote the ideas and suggestions down, that much got through to Rick. But the meaning of those words bounced off his ears like a flat stone would bounce off the smooth surface of a lake. 

A hand on his thigh and a knee pressed against his under the table had him snap out of this relapse into the past, and relieved, he found himself looking into a pair of concerned blue eyes.   
Tara was just rambling about how important it was to keep the surviving Saviors locked up til Kingdom come, no pun intended, and Rick knew that Daryl liked to take the same line, but the archer didn’t back Tara up this time. He kept looking at his partner, the shadow blue eyes calm and gentle like Rick hadn’t seen them in a long time.

         “Yer okay?” Daryl whispered to him after a long moment of silent observation and the worry he heard in the archer’s inflection made Rick’s heart lighter. 

He nodded wordlessly. Yes, he was. He would be. As long as there were still moments like this, he would be. Moments when Daryl initiated a touch and showed him that he still cared.   
With a thankful smile to his man, Rick gave the warm hand on his thigh a firm squeeze and then turned to the assembled group. He let Tara read back everything she had taken down, allegedly as a summary for everyone, but mainly for himself, since he hadn’t paid attention at all. And then they discussed for another hour how to go about solving these problems and which should be the priority.   
After that hour Rick couldn’t help sighing once again. He seemed to be doing that a lot these days.   
Delegating work made things easier for him, but it sure didn’t make matters quicker. Especially with people at the table who liked to get caught up in discussions on whether a zebra was black and white or white and black. 

         “Okay, hold it!”  
The leader pinched the bridge of his nose.  
         “Tara, I know the Saviors are your main concern, but until we’ve got the food situation in Alexandria taken care of, they are just not top of the list. Winter is coming, there was no harvest due to the war and our supplies are running low. This is what we need to worry about first of all.”  
          
         “Pff”, Tara made a dismissive gesture. “Instead of feeding those bastards, we should just shoot them and our food situation would improve instantly.” 

         “Yeah?” Rick jumped to his feet and held his gun out to the young woman. “Fine. You think that’s the solution, go ahead. But _you_ do it. I heard you’ve been rooting for quite of few of those _bastards_ to get killed, but you never got your hands dirty when you had the chance. There’s enough blood on mine, Tara. I’m tired of killing and watching people die. Tired.”

It was deadly quiet in the room for a moment, then Tara slowly rose to her feet, her eyes flicking between Rick’s face and the gun that was still extended to her. Before she had a chance to reach for it though, Daryl beat her to it. He was off his chair and snatched the gun from the leader’s hand in a heartbeat.

         _No!_

Rick closed his eyes and swallowed against the raspy sensation in his throat. He had hoped, prayed even, that Daryl would come back from the dark path he’s been on. That he would overcome all that hate and fury and let himself feel anything else again, but apparently Rick’s prayers had fallen on deaf ears as so many times before. JC didn’t care anymore, had obviously turned away from them a long time ago. Who could blame him?

         “Rick’s right”, he heard the archer’s voice in that moment and azure blue eyes flew open in surprise. “Food’s more important, Tara. I ain’t sayin’ we oughta keep ‘em assholes alive, but that decision’s just not the priority.”

He turned to the leader and held the gun out to him.

         “We could always take the whole bunch away some place – like eighteen miles out or so.” 

There was a teasing sparkle in Daryl’s eyes and Rick almost laughed. Almost.   
The innuendo had triggered more painful memories – on how he and Shane had turned against each other back then due to clashing opinions. Just like he and Daryl had a couple of months back.   
And yet, the archer had stood by him just now, had backed him up the way he used to – before the war, before Rick had stopped listening to him. Maybe there was still hope after all.

Before Tara even had a chance to protest, Rick spoke again.

         “Tara, I promise – we’ll deal with the Savior problem. Soon. But first we need to restock our supplies and, I’m sure we all agree on that, the repairs to the wall and the gate are top priority next to the food. A second wall and new watchtowers are a good idea, but we’ll need construction materials for that. And right now we don’t have the numbers and the time to send people out looking for that kind of stuff. The old wall will have to do till spring. Let’s just hope there’s no more assholes out there to give us any trouble.”

That said, Rick concluded the meeting and sent the council members on their way with a task he expected them to fulfill, hoping that they would listen to him again and actually do what they’ve been told. He didn’t hold his breath as far as Tara was concerned and as for Daryl … There had been a time when he relied and trusted his partner 150%. When he would have bet his soul that Daryl would have his back and support him unconditionally, no matter what. Until he hadn’t.   
The threat of getting killed during the war hadn’t scared Rick half as much as Daryl’s unpredictable reactions and the archer’s solo actions. It had left Rick with a feeling of insecurity. Whatever the plan had been, whatever he had expected Daryl to do – he couldn’t be sure anymore that the older man would stick to that plan and actually do this part in it. For months Rick had felt like walking on thin ice, waiting to break through any second. And he had, too. 

They left the house together, all seven of them, and then everybody went their way to do their jobs, until only Rick and Daryl were still standing motionless on the front porch. 

         “Whadda ya want me to do?” Daryl asked flatly. 

It hadn’t gone unnoticed that Rick hadn’t assigned any task to him. 

         “Whadda you want to do?” Rick returned the question and couldn’t help noticing how Daryl’s lips became a thin line.

         “Huntin’. Ya said we need food ‘n’ ya know goin’ on runs for canned stuff ‘s pretty senseless after all this time.”

         “Huh. Still worth a try.”

         “If ya think so.”

Rick gave him a scrutiny and his jaw muscles were visibly working.

         “I take it you don’t agree.” _Again._ “If I sent you on a run, would you go?” 

Damn, why did he have to do that now? Provoke Daryl, trigger a reaction, push him? Did he really want to know the answer at all?  
The archer’s eyes narrowed even more than they already were and there was a visible reaction in them. Whether it was anger or hurt was hard to tell and after only a split second the expression was replaced by a deadpan.

         “I would”, Daryl grumbled. “If ya wanna waste time, ‘m gonna go. Yer call.” 

         _“You’re an asshole, Grimes”,_ Rick chided himself. _“You don’t wanna be a leader, but you expect people to follow your call nevertheless instead of letting them make their own decisions. Daryl first of all. Start listening already!”_

         “No”, he said after pulling in a deep breath. “You’re right. If you come up empty, we can still send people out, but we’d have to go far by now and it’s dangerous.”

          “Yeah”, the older man grunted an agreement that pretty much meant _“That’s what I’ve been saying.”_

With a curt nod he walked down the steps, but then stopped without turning back around.

         “What I did during the war, all of it – ‘twas somethin’ I hadda do. It meant somethin’ to me, ‘twas important. Jus’ like when ya ran back into the prison with that hatchet a’ yers ta put down ‘em walkers that got Lori killed. Or when ya did pretty much the same after Alexandria was overrun. Didn’t make sense, ‘twas a stupid thing ta do, but I never judged ya for it, stood by ya nevertheless, ‘cause I knew nothin’ ‘n’ nobody coulda stopped ya from doin’ it.”

He cast a quick glance over his shoulder.

         “Know ya think I wasn’t on yer side during the war. Fact is, ‘twas the other way round.” 

With that said he left Rick standing and walked down the street, while the leader watched him disappear around a corner with stinging eyes and a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

Rick barely paid attention to where he was going, just stumbled in the direction of his house without looking left or right.  
Daryl’s words still echoed in his mind and suddenly it all fell into place. That immense amount of frustration and anger that had been boiling inside the archer hadn’t just been fueled by his hate for the Saviors, but by his bitter disappointment about Rick’s lack of understanding and support.   
Daryl was right – the leader had done a couple of stupid things, knee-jerk reactions and entirely bad plans alike. Yet his partner had always been there, had backed him up as best as he could and saw each crisis through with him till Rick was ready to return to the straight and narrow. He should have done the same. Should have tried to understand what Daryl was going through, _why_ he had to do what he did.   
Rick had failed him, that was a fact, and the aftermath of that failure was eating at their relationship, their love, like a cancer now. Maybe they were beyond the point where things could still be mended. 

With weary steps Rick entered his house and after pushing the door closed behind him, leaned his back heavily against it. He breathed in deep a couple of times and then, after kicking off his boots, shuffled to the kitchen to get himself a new cup of coffee. His eyes flicked to the cabinet where he had hid the cookie and after hesitating a moment he retrieved it from its hiding place.    
When he opened the box and looked at the gift Daryl had left him, tears suddenly pooled in his eyes and a stray one ran down his cheek without him even noticing. 

They had come a long way together and had developed a unique and beautiful relationship that was a miracle in itself after how they had started. Rick used to think a bond like that was larger than life, but now it was crumbling and falling to pieces.    
Daryl was going on a hunting trip again, would be out there all day, maybe even longer – maybe he wasn’t gonna come back at all. The danger was still out there and it was unlikely to ever go away. Walkers were still roaming the Earth and although the Saviors were defeated, there were probably other groups just as bad or even worse. There was no telling what Daryl might be up against out there. And then maybe he was going to _choose_ not to return.   
They had made it a habit early in their relationship to never part ways without saying good bye, without a hug and a kiss. Each one could have been the last for all times after all. 

Rick couldn’t tell for sure when Daryl had hugged or kissed him last. Weeks ago, months even. The day before Michonne died.    
They lost Gabriel first, then Morgan and after Glenn, Abraham and Sasha, losing Michonne had been the final straw. Without ever saying it out loud, they had started blaming each other – Rick’s anger grew each time Daryl did not stick to the plan, did not agree with him, did his own thing, while the archer’s frustration got out of hand when Rick time and again would not listen to what he had to say, would downright ignore his suggestions or concerns. 

That night, after Michonne died, things had gotten out of hand.    
Rick shuddered when the recollection hit him full force. The recollection of how he and Daryl had ended up yelling at each other, up there in their bedroom behind closed doors.    
Too much was too much and they had lost half of their family now, one way or the other. Each loss was painful, but some weighed more than others and Michonne had been special. She had been a close friend to both of them and Carl adored her – her death as well as the boy’s devastation had been more than either man was able to handle that night. And maybe they hadn’t been willing to handle it, needed an outlet for all the pent up emotions.   
It had started with yelling, then shoving, until Daryl had taken a swing at Rick again the way he had when they had fought over the explosives. And Rick had hit back.    
He still couldn’t believe he had lost control to such an extent and he would never forgive himself for doing the one thing he never ever meant to do – and that was hitting the most important man in his life. He hit Daryl. After all his partner had been through in his life, after all the abuse, how could he do that to him? How could Daryl possibly ever forgive him for that?

Rick’s knees buckled all of a sudden and squeezing his eyes shut, as though he was able to keep all these disturbing pictures out of his head that way, he dropped to the floor.

It hadn’t stopped there, with a punch and yelling, the way it should have. That night they had both clearly overstepped the mark, and Rick had wondered often enough if they had ever really come back from the dark place beyond.    
Their shoving and wrestling had made them lose their balance at one point, trip and fall onto the bed. Rick couldn’t even recall who started it, who pinned the other one down first or when and how their clothes had practically been ripped off the other’s body.    
They’d been torn, confused, hurting and longing for peace and revenge at the same time. Being together, becoming one had always provided that peace and taken the pain away, yet at the same time it was pain they both wanted to inflict more than anything. They had seen a lover and an enemy in the other one at that moment, the cure and the source of their problems wrapped into one.    
Lovemaking was definitely the wrong word for what they had done to each other – love had nothing to do with it. 

 

Rick pulled his knees up and hugged them, placing his forehead against them with his eyes still firmly shut. He refused to recall the details and tried to ban the memory of the shocked, hurt and ashamed look in Daryl’s eyes when they had finally come to their senses. They had left bruises and scratches on each other’s skin – and on the other’s soul. Had treated the one person they used to love most in this world in an entirely despicable way, unable to explain how it had ever come to this. Neither had ever said “I’m sorry”, although they both were.    
Daryl had slept on the couch that night. The first night ever since they’d become a couple that they had chosen to sleep apart, that they had figured it would be best for both of them to stay clear of each other. A few nights later he had returned to their shared bedroom. Had crawled under the covers wordlessly and gently as though nothing had happened and for a reason unknown to either one they had chosen to pretend it actually never had. They never talked about it, never apologized, never tried to explain or justify it. It never happened.    
Unfortunately the human mind and heart didn’t have a ‘delete’ button and as much as people liked to make things undone by not talking about them, time just couldn’t be turned back. 

Things had been different between them ever since that night. They still slept next to each other, but they didn’t sleep _with_ each other anymore. There were no more kisses, no tender touches, no hugs.  
Small gestures like the grazing of their fingers and their shoulders or knees touching when they walked or sat next to each other – that was as close as they would get these days. There was a gap between them, the last bridge burned the day Michonne died, and they were desperately trying to find the way back to each other – to no avail yet. 

Rick looked at the cookie in his hand and pulled in a shuddering breath. It was just a single cookie and yet meant to much. As long as there were still gestures like that at all it meant Daryl was still trying, hadn’t given up on them entirely yet. Same as Rick. If only he knew what to do, how to win his man back.

The sound of a car passing out front had him furrow his brow and he got up to take a look out the window.    
No one was supposed to be going anywhere that day. On the contrary. Hadn’t they just decided to do repairs to the wall and buildings? And hadn’t he sent Tobin and Rosita out to check each house for supplies to see what they still had in store? Nobody was supposed to go on a run, so what the heck was going on again?   
He reached the window in time to see Aaron’s car pass – with Daryl in the passenger seat.    
All color drained from the leader’s face. Didn’t Daryl tell him he was gonna go hunting? Since when did he take Aaron along on hunting trips? And why were they headed out there by car? There were woods nearby, so there was no need to go anywhere. 

         _“I couldn’t sleep.”_

That’s what Daryl had told him that morning – when he had come out of Aaron’s house. Aaron.

         _No!_

No, they were friends. Aaron had lost his partner when the war had just started and was still suffering from that loss. He was grieving and needed a friend by his side, someone to lend a sympathetic ear and Daryl could do that – listen.    
Aaron had been the first person to really welcome the unkempt archer into this community, back then when the group had first arrived. And he was the first in Alexandria to break through Daryl’s shield and earn his trust.    
They got along, liked each other, had both been recruiters for Alexandria for a while. There was a connection, yes, but …

Rick shook his head as though he could shake off the disturbing thoughts that way, too. Determinedly he stopped staring after a car that had long since disappeared out of sight and rather focused on the item in his hand again. On the totally not-round cookie that, despite being such an ordinary thing, still was one of the most precious gifts he had ever gotten. Maybe because it was twice as meaningful to receive a gift at all in times when he and his partner apparently had little else to give to each other. 

For the rest of the day Rick tried to ban all negative thoughts and emotions and kept himself occupied as best as possible to be distracted. He cleaned the house from top to bottom, took a look at how works around town were proceeding and talked to Rosita to learn about their supply situation, which unfortunately was anything but _hunky-dunky,_ before he went to Barbara’s house to pick up Judith.    
It was getting late. The sun set early this time of the year and it had gotten quite cold during the past days – winter was definitely near, which put extra pressure on him as far as seeing to these people’s needs was concerned, but right now that wasn’t his main concern.

With his daughter on his arm Rick headed back home and couldn’t help casting a glance towards the gate time and again. Hunting trip … Sure, it was only late in the afternoon, not even dinner time, but it was dark out already. Even Daryl Dixon was unable to hunt in total darkness and from the few times Rick had accompanied the archer out into the woods, he knew that it was as black as coal in there as soon as the sun had set. He should be back by now. _They._   
Rick had refused to listen to the green-eyed monster all day, but now it was whispering to him again and had his stomach in tight knots.    
He had been on enough runs and hunting trips with Daryl over the years to _know_ what could really be going down out there. In a car together, far away from all the people of this town and finally having perfect privacy …

         “Daddy?”

Judy’s voice derailed his train of thought and with a start he noticed that he had been gritting his teeth all the time apparently, because his jaw hurt almost as much as his heart did. 

         “Yes, sweetheart?”

         “Daddy sad?” the little girl asked.

And only when she ran the tip of her finger over his cheek he noticed that a single tear had slid down.

         “No, don’t worry”, he lied. “Daddy’s fine. I just got something in my eye.”    
He hugged her close and pressed a kiss to her chubby cheek.   
         “Whadda you say, you wanna help me make a real yummy dinner for your pa?”

The blonde curls bounced when she nodded eagerly.  
          
         “Pagetti!”

Rick couldn’t help laughing.

         “Spaghetti? I was thinking about something …”

He was thinking of the right term to describe what he’d been thinking of and found he couldn’t even tell. Something the archer might be able to eat without turning the dining table into a disaster area? Rick couldn’t have cared less, so no. Not it. Something that was more _haute cuisine_ , more _special_ than ordinary spaghetti?    
Unfortunately they just ran out of caviar and lobster and even _if_ they had any fancy stuff somewhere in Alexandria, Rick doubted that Daryl would have cared for it at all.    
He would eat raw squirrel, snake, a worm, even dog food without batting an eyelash, because that’s what he knew, what he grew up with next to _ordinary spaghetti_. Anything else presented to him usually resulted in knitted brows, accompanied by the comment:

         _“Ain’t eatin’ that. Looks like shit, man.”_

Another smile spread over Rick’s face.

         “Perfect idea, Judy. Your papa will like that.” 

With huge enthusiasm little Judith helped preparing the meal and although the minutes ticked away one by one without the archer returning, Rick’s mood still was brightened by watching his daughter _help._  
Wearing a way too large apron, she stood on a chair in front of the stove and stirred the pot with the tomato sauce eagerly, while Rick watched her closely with one arm wrapped around her waist and an watchful eye on the spaghetti pot in back of the stove top. He didn’t like her near the boiling water, but how do you say ‘no’ to big blue eyes and _“Judy helps cook, pleeeeeeeeeeeease, daddy?”_  
After the spoon in her hand had made the like tenth sweeping round through the tomato sauce, there was more of it squirted on her apron than was left in the pot, but Judith was happy. And if she was happy, so would Daryl – even if he had to eat his pasta without any sauce.

Dinner time came, but there was no sign of Judy’s _papa_. Carl had returned and given the repairs at the gate he had participated in that day the thumbs-up, and then they had waited. When the meal was starting to grow cold Rick had told his children to go ahead and dig in, because Daryl had apparently been held up some place. Rick would eat later, when his partner was back.    
That was what he told Carl and Judith, but in fact Rick didn’t wait out of politeness – he had lost his appetite. And something in the way Carl cast him a secret side glance time and time again stirred the uneasy feeling deep down in the leader, that his son _knew._ Whatever there was to know, he was in the picture, but Rick would be damned talking to his son about personal matters like that. His relationships were not up for discussion. They hadn’t been back at the farm, when things between him and Lori had started to go south and although Carl was older now, they still were nobody’s business. And the teenager knew better than to ask. 

         “Don’t worry, dad”, Carl just said after his sister and he had finished their meal. “He might have followed some game too far out and forgot the time. He’ll be okay.” 

         “Yeah, sure”, Rick replied absentmindedly before he rose and carried the dishes to the sink.

Without a further word he started washing them, his back turned to the table, and Carl got the message that this conversation was over. When Rick turned back around after he had scrubbed the long since clean plates for way longer than necessary, Carl and Judith were gone. He hadn’t even heard them leave.   
There were voices – or rather, Carl’s voice – upstairs and a smile tugged at the corner of Rick’s mouth when his son’s poor attempt to sing Judith a lullaby sounded from the nursery.    
He recognized the song – Lori used to sing it to him almost every night when he was little. When had the boy grown up to be such a fine young man? Sometimes Rick wished he could turn back time to have his little boy back. He hadn’t been there nearly enough, hadn’t _done_ enough, had missed too much of a childhood that ended way too soon.   
After he had put his sister to bed, Carl returned to the family room.

         “I’m going to bed, too, dad. It’s been a long day and I’m on duty to help with the livestock tomorrow morning.”

         “Uh-huh. _One a’ ‘em cows_ is lots of work, huh?”

Carl grinned.

         “Yup. And the pigs and the chickens and the goats … “ 

He trailed off when he noticed that his father was not really paying attention to what he was saying.

         “He’ll be back, dad. Daryl can take care of himself. – Good night.” 

That said the boy turned on his heels and headed upstairs to his room, leaving a man behind who felt guilty and ashamed more than anything.   
It hadn’t even crossed his mind that Daryl and Aaron might have run into trouble out there or that it was precisely the way Carl had said – that they followed the game out too far and forgot the time, lost the light and were trying to find their way back now.    
His only thought all day long had circled around whatever the green-eyed monster had let him see in his mind’s eye.

         _“You oughta be ashamed of yourself, Grimes”_ , he chided himself mentally, before he went to the front door and stepped out onto the porch. 

It sure was cold out now and he shivered after only few moments out there. He took a last long look towards the gate and up and down the street, but Aaron’s car was nowhere in sight – yet. 

         “I trust you”, he whispered determinedly out into the night, wishing that deep down inside he would be as convinced as he sounded. 

Sitting on the couch, silently and motionless, Rick waited another hour, then two. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours. Twenty minutes into the third hour Rick decided to call it a day and go to bed. The now cold spaghetti still sat on the table next to the two untouched plates and two wine glasses he had brought out. He had even found a candle and real cloth napkins in back of one of the cabinets.    
This could have been a sort of romantic dinner. Just the two of them and a meal prepared by their adorable little daughter. There would have been time to talk, time to work things out maybe, time to take one or the other step towards each other again.    
Tiredly Rick ran both hands over his face and stood. Another plan that had just fallen through. 

 

The night was dark – there was no moon and heavy clouds veiled the stars. Maybe there would be snow sooner than expected.    
Rick pulled the covers up higher and tried to get comfortable, tried to relax to finally find some sleep, but so far all attempts had been futile. He’d been tossing and turning for hours now. Had turned from the right side onto his back, then the left side, even tried sleeping on his stomach although he hated it, because it made him vulnerable and unable to get up quickly in case of danger. When all else had failed he had even started counting walkers – no one still counted sheep these days. Nothing had helped. That empty spot next to him was too cold, too quiet, too _wrong._

It was way past midnight and Rick had just curled up on his right side once again, facing the window and staring out into the blackness beyond, when he heard one of the stair treads squeak lightly, right before the bedroom door was cautiously opened.

         “’s me”, a well-known voice whispered instantly, even before the person it belonged to slipped through the gap into the room.

They had made it a habit to warn each other when sneaking up on a sleeping person. Too many times people had almost gotten shot when startling someone out of their sleep. Everybody was permanently on the alert now – something living in an apocalypse and having been in a war entailed without anyone being able to help it. 

Rick lay motionless and quiet, his eyes closed now, and pretended to be asleep.    
Daryl was home. He was safe and well. That was all that mattered right now. Whatever had happened, whatever was going on – it would have to wait. Rick couldn’t have the _‘We need to talk’_ conversation now. He had had too many of that kind with Lori and they were anything but pleasant. He just didn’t have the nerve for it right now.    
Maybe he was just seeing things, maybe he was being paranoid and there was a perfectly harmless explanation. Tomorrow morning was as good a time as any to make a fool of himself.

Behind his back he heard the rustling of clothes that were taken off, before the covers were lifted and the mattress moved as Daryl slipped into bed.    
He tried to move as gentle as he possibly could in order not to wake Rick, while the leader waited for his partner to get settled. His pulse rate accelerated and he tried to focus on breathing even and lying totally still to not give himself away.    
Daryl knew him too well and he seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to Rick. He had always known when he was awake or merely pretending to be asleep, seemed to be able to sense his mood better than anyone else and sometimes Rick had the impression that Daryl was even able to read his mind. He used to, anyway. 

         “Rick?”

It was the softest whisper right above him and the leader was able to feel Daryl’s breath on his face like a caress. He was leaning over him, was trying to see his face in the darkness and Rick could feel the warmth radiate off the other man’s body. It took all of his willpower to keep his eyes closed and continue his pretence to be asleep, when all he really wanted to do was pull Daryl into his arms now, kiss him, hold him close. He missed him so much that it hurt.   
He felt a feather-light touch on his hair before Daryl pulled back. It was probably just the archer’s long stands brushing against Rick’s curls, and then maybe he had placed a soft kiss onto his head just now. It was killing Rick not to know, not to be able to respond, but he just couldn’t. 

He felt Daryl lie down and then turn on his left side, facing away from him. For a second the leader just held his breath, hoping, waiting, anticipating … The next moment Daryl scooted back until his back touched Rick’s and had the younger man’s heart leap. He was craving for touch like a man dying of thirst was craving water, but that one night months back had torn wounds that still had not healed.    
This was the same room, the same bed and each time there had been even the slightest touch at night, they had both been reminded instantly of what they had done to each other, how things had escalated between them and had turned them into something they never meant to be. _Sorry_ was the hardest word to say and maybe it just wasn’t enough.   
The war never left them the time, the peace to work things out and a problem that should have been solved months ago, had become a permanent resident in this house, in this bedroom.    
The only time Daryl dared initiate touch, was when he thought Rick was asleep and vice versa. A feathery kiss, the brushing of their fingers, an arm loosely wrapped over the other one’s side for a moment or sleeping back to back – that was all that was going on between the sheets. They were back to square one, like they had just met and were no more than friends.

Rick indulged in the feeling of Daryl’s back against his and suppressed a sigh. 

They had made the transition once, they could do it again. Work this out, fall in love all over, be lovers again – they could do it. If Daryl still wanted him at all. 

         “G’nite, Rick”, the archer whispered unexpectedly and then was quiet.

Rick didn’t respond and concentrated on his breathing again. Did Daryl know he was awake or had he said that out of habit? He wouldn’t take the risk, didn’t mean to break the magic.     
The man he loved lying so close to him finally soothed Rick enough to relax. And only moments later he felt his limbs grow heavy and his thoughts run slow and sluggish as sleep claimed him.

 

         _“You and Daryl – that really was the big plan then, huh?”_   
_ Lori’s voice is gentle, a smile tugging on her lips while she reaches out for Rick’s hand and gives it a squeeze.  _  
_          “It’s a good plan, you know.” _

_          “It is. And I’m happy for you and Shane, I really am. We should have had this conversation earlier.” _

_ Her pretty brown eyes are lowered in shame. _

_          “I know. I’m so sorry I kept this from you. I just didn’t know how to break it to you, felt so guilty …” _

_          “Lori, you thought I was dead. So did he. And let’s face it – you and I, we’ve been headed down a dead-end street for way too long. Shane’s a great guy. I mean, I don’t share my donuts with just anybody, you know.” _

_ She is laughing now and throws her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.  _

_          “You’re _ _a great guy, too, Rick Grimes. Just so you know.”_

_          “Ya bet he is, Olive Oil”, a gruff voice sounds behind her back suddenly. “I ain’t tossin’ ma squirrels at jus’ anybody.” _

_ Daryl steps in between Rick and the sheriff’s ex-wife and with a hand to her shoulder pushes her back. _

_          “He’s mine now, lady, so back off.”   _

_ And then his lips are on Rick’s, kissing him ardently while Daryl’s hands start roaming over his body and eager fingers are pulling on his shirt. _  
_ There’s a wolf whistle behind Rick’s back that sounds like Shane and despite standing right in front of Hershel’s house, Rick doesn’t even feel ashamed when he grows hard right there and then.  _

 

A door falling shut with a loud bang ripped the leader out of his dream and cerulean eyes flew open with a start.  
For a moment Rick lay panting heavily while the feelings and images of his dream still lingered – including his throbbing hard-on. He remembered that day back at Hershel’s farm. Remembered pulling Lori aside and asking her how much longer she was planning to pretend not to be in love with Shane, not to be sleeping with his best friend whenever they were able to sneak away together. He wasn’t a fool. He had eyes and ears – more than just one set of each, because Daryl had noticed what was going on, too, and had hinted it to him. 

For a split second a tiny smile flashed over Rick’s face when he recalled the details of his dream.  
Of course, Daryl never said those words to Lori and he sure as hell would never have kissed him in front of everybody, but the imagination had Rick smile nevertheless.   
          
He and Lori did have the long overdue conversation back then though. And there’d been tears and apologies on her side, but despite having been cheated on, Rick hadn’t been angry or hurt. He’d been relieved. It was okay that she didn’t love him anymore – not like that anyway – and that their marriage was over, because he didn’t love her that way anymore, either. He loved Daryl.   
For a while he had fooled himself, had pretended that it was just friendship, no more than brotherly love he felt for the archer. But there was no denying his feelings any longer when he had started lying awake at night, looking at his wife with regret, wishing Daryl was there with him instead. All of a sudden it had been killing him when the grumpy red-neck was out there alone, looking for Sophia, and it was the very same day Daryl had returned wounded and Andrea almost shot him that Rick had made a decision. A very simple decision – _him or no one._  
And so he and Lori had set each other free, had agreed to call it quits and give new relationships a chance. She had loved Shane and he loved her back and Rick loved both of them enough to gladly give his blessings. And, yes, Daryl definitely had been the big plan.

         “You can keep the tent”, he had joked as though they were splitting their property. “But I want shared custody.”  
          
         “Fine, but you can only have Carl every other weekend and we share the holidays”, she had played along, suppressing a smirk. “There will be no moving back and forth between my tent and yours.” 

They had both chuckled about the ridiculous exchange. After all, however odd the situation might have been, they were all of them going to stick together and no one was moving anywhere. Except for Rick.   
He had gone over to the small tent way out back of Hershel’s farm that night with the intent to never leave again. He and Daryl had been pining for each other for quite a while, but long looks, _accidental_ touches and shy smiles was all that had been going on between them so far.    
That night Rick had slept better than ever before since the apocalypse started. He had held Daryl in his arms, thanking the good Lord above repeatedly that Andrea’s shot had only grazed him, and had kissed those lips he had so been longing for time and again. Snuggled up the two of them had drifted off to sleep, knowing that when they woke again they would be facing this life side by side from now on. Together.  

 

With a weary sigh Rick sat up and swung his legs out of bed. The farm had been paradise. Life could have been good there, but all good things come to an end, they say. Fate was such a fucking bitch. Why couldn’t it just last? Why did that walker horde have to come across that farm? Why did their hopes and dream have to go up in flames? Why did the damn motor of that damn car have to stall with Shane trapped inside? Why didn’t he just wait in there instead of trying to get away and outrun them? Why …? Why did it have to be him, Rick, who was closest to him when the walkers started driving their teeth into his best friend’s flesh? Why did it have to be him, who couldn’t do any more than shoot Shane to end his agony, while he heard Lori’s screams somewhere behind him?

Had he ever told Shane how much he meant to him? Did he know that there were no hard feelings and that in fact Rick had been happier with Daryl than he had been with Lori in a long time? Did he know how much Lori loved him and that Carl admired him and was proud to be the only boy in the world with three dads? 

A sob escaped Rick and he got up and shuffled over to the window. The sun was up already and only a few harmless clouds were in the sky. He looked up to the clear blue canopy and pulled in a deep shuddering breath.

         “I miss you, bro. Wish you were here. I wish you could have seen Lori’s baby. Whether she’s yours or mine – she’s the prettiest girl on Earth. Wish I could talk to you now, ‘cause I really don’t know …”   
He swallowed thickly against the raspy sensation in his throat.   
         “I’m losing Daryl and I don’t know what to do. Could really use your help here, bro. Not that you were the expert on relationships, but … damn, I feel so alone and I can’t mess up again.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, sighing.

         “But maybe I already have.”

He looked over his shoulder to the bed he had just left. It was empty. Once again Rick had woken up alone. 

 

It took him a while to compose himself and shake the aftermath of his dream. He went into the shower – a cold one – which took care of more than one problem and then, with his spirits somewhat revived, headed across the corridor to the nursery. Poor Judy was probably starving by now. Why did nobody wake him?   
When he peeked into the room, he found the crib empty, so Carl had probably taken care of his baby sister again. Damn, was there another council meeting or something Rick forgot about?

The moment he hurried into the family room, the leader stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide with surprise.    
Daryl was in the kitchen, carrying Judith on one arm while he was turning pancakes with the other. Almost instantly Rick started drooling.    
He had never, not for one second, regretted breaking off with Lori to be with Daryl. There were probably a gazillion little reasons why he loved the archer and his pancakes were definitely way up there in the top ten. Lori’s pancakes had always been goddamn awful, no matter how hard she had tried to do them right, but Daryl’s were perfection. Soft, fluffy …

         “Ya makin’ a puddle on the damn floor, so stop droolin’, man.” 

         “Daddy!” Judith squealed happily and Daryl placed her on the floor so she could run into her dad’s waiting arms.

         “Whadda we got here – one of my favorite people in the world.”   
Rick picked her up and placed a kiss on her nose.   
         “Morning, munchkin.”

He walked over to the breakfast counter and lowered himself onto one of the stools with Judith on his knee.

         “Morning other favorite person”, he said to Daryl, triggering a tiny smile on the archer’s face.

         “Bet yer sayin’ that to everyone who’s feedin’ ya.” 

         “Got me.” 

         “Speakin’ a’ food – thanks for the spaghetti. Sorry I missed dinner.”

Rick looked at him quietly, waiting for an explanation, but none was offered.

         “Judy helped.”

         “Uh-huh. I can tell”, he replied with a smile, pointing at the apron that was adorned with most of the tomato sauce.  

They were both quiet for a moment, then Rick cautiously picked up again.

         “Any luck?” 

         “Huh?”

         “The hunting trip. Any luck?”

         “Luck ain’t got nothin’ ta do with it”, Daryl apparently tried to change the subject, but then reconsidered.   
         “Didn’t go as planned”, he grumbled. “Only got three bunnies and a squirrel. Aaron ‘n’ I gonna try again today.” 

Rick felt the cold feeling return to his stomach.

         “I can come.”

Daryl cast him a side glance, before putting the pancake on a plate and placing it on the breakfast counter in front of the leader.

          “Nah, thanks. No offense, Grimes, but ya know damn well that Bigfoot prob’ly moves like an elf compared to ya.”

          “Looks like Aaron’s doing little better”, Rick snapped, biting his tongue instantly. 

Why did he have to say that now? Making a scene, especially in front of Judith, was most definitely not the way to go about things.   
Daryl gave him a look for a long, silent moment. Then he turned wordlessly, took the maple syrup out of a cabinet and placed it next to Rick’s plate with a loud thud. 

         “What exactly are ya sayin’?” 

         “Nothing”, Rick lied. “I was just wondering why you’re taking Aaron on hunting trips these days, since he apparently …”

         “I ain’t”, Daryl cut him short. “Aaron was headin’ to Hilltop ta see how Maggie’s doin’ with the baby due soon. He dropped me off on the way ‘n’ picked me up on his way back. I’s hopin’ ta catch some deer – can’t bring ‘em on ma bike.”

         “Huh.” Rick reached for the fork Daryl was holding out to him and, after pouring a rather large amount of syrup on it, dug in.   
         “Yum. This is awesome, Daryl.”

When Judith smacked her lips in the unspoken request for a piece of the pancake, Rick complied and watched with delight how the face of the little girl lit up while she chewed audibly.   
Daryl had turned around to go about making another pancake, when Rick’s voice behind him had him freeze.

         “We got woods right out there, you know.”

The archer whirled around on his heels.  
          
         “Is this some kind of interrogation, Officer? Got somethin’ ya wanna tell me?”

Judith stopped eating and looked at her pa with wide eyes. The agitated inflection had not escaped her. Daryl ran a hand gently over the golden locks and forced a smile when he looked at the little girl.

         “’s okay, Li’l Asskicker.”

A scowl grazed Rick when Daryl turned back to the stove and he thought he heard the archer mutter under his breath “Yer dad’s a jackass, ‘s all.” 

         “Just so ya know”, the older man picked up without looking at Rick while he turned the new pancake. “Huntin’ ain’t easy ‘round Alexandria no more, ‘cause we had a li’l walker problem here not too long ago, case ya forgot. Those fuckers eat animals, too, ‘n’ they had way too many a’ ‘em bambies this summer. We need deer, Rick. Couple a’ ‘em, ta feed people this winter. ‘s why I’m huntin’ further out.”

He took the pan off the stove, then turned around and forcefully tossed a dishtowel straight into Rick’s face. Judith spat parts of her pancake when this made her laugh, but neither of the men joined into her amusement.  

         “Gotta go”, Daryl just said, before he took off the dirty apron and stomped out of the room.    
         “Luv ya, Judy.”

That said he slammed the front door shut behind himself, making Rick flinch. 

         “Papa?” the girl asked, craning her head to look questioningly at her father.

         “He’ll be back soon”, Rick forced himself to say, although he wasn’t too convinced about his own words.    
         “He just needs to do something with Uncle Aaron.” 

_ Something. _ Interrogation. Jackass. So much for not messing up again.    
Had Daryl reacted this fiercely now, because Rick had been implying things? Or had he reacted this fiercely now, because the implied things were dead on?    
Either way, this sure had been a dumb way to handle matters. All he had achieved was making Daryl angry, driving him out of the house without a good bye, let alone a hug or a kiss. 

         “Would you like some more pancake, sweetheart?” Rick asked, pointing at his plate.

He had lost his appetite once again.

                                                 

Another week passed and the status quo remained unaltered.    
Daryl was barely ever home and when he was, there seemed to be an invisible wall between him and his partner. They saw each other, they heard each other, but there was no way to get close, as though they were living on different sides of a glass panel.    
Rick buried himself in work, kept everyone in Alexandria busy with repairs at the wall or the houses, even went on one or the other run despite the earlier plan to stop doing that. Their greenhouses were unlikely to produce enough food to get their people through the winter and although Daryl and Aaron were out there every single day, they hadn’t brought back nearly enough venison yet. 

It wasn’t the food though that was Rick’s main concern, although it should have been. What was on his mind every second of the day, no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, was his and Daryl’s relationship. Or rather, what was left of it.   
He couldn’t go on like this. Although it was the hardest thing to do, he needed to have that talk with Daryl. The kind of talk that usually ended with one of the participants saying “Sorry, I just don’t love you anymore”. It sure wasn’t him who’d be saying that. And so far he had postponed the dreaded confrontation, because he knew he couldn’t bear hearing those words from Daryl. 

How many times had he wished to turn back time, go back to the moment when things had started to go south to make it undone. Woulda, coulda, shoulda. It was senseless to even think about it, because there was no going back.

For the umpteenth time that week, Rick pulled the hidden box out of the kitchen cabinet and looked at the cookie Daryl had left for him the other day.    
It was definitely silly to value that gift so much, but he couldn’t help himself. Maybe it meant something after all, just like the pancakes or the fact that Daryl kept making him coffee each and every morning. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that there’d been some kind of touch each night, ever since Rick pretended to be asleep when Daryl came to bed. Maybe it wasn’t just his long hair grazing Rick’s locks accidentally, but he was in fact placing feather-light kisses on his head.    
Then again, maybe Rick was just getting his hopes up way too high and was fooling himself. There was just one way to find out and tonight would be the night. 

The leader had scheduled himself for yet another run with Tara and Rosita that day. One more before he was willing to admit that they were in trouble. They had come up empty on their previous runs and he wasn’t willing to take the risk to head further out. Their cars were old now, gas was running low and on top of it all it was mid-December. So far there’d been only smaller amounts of snow and ice, but any day now winter could really hit them. There was no weather forecast on the news anymore – all they could go by was a glance up into the sky and old Mrs. Clutterbuck’s arthritis to predict snow. Heading out too far and maybe getting caught in a blizzard would be lethal. Rick didn’t believe in any miraculous supplies still being out there anyway.   
It had been three years since the outbreak and every store had probably been raided more than once. If there were still goods out there at all, they must long since have reached their BBDs, too, but with the threat of their people going hungry the leader was willing to take the chance. 

He had already said his good-byes to his children that morning. Had given Carl an extra tight hug for no particular reason – he just felt that he needed to do it. Give both of them a hug, a kiss and tell them how much he loved them. Whatever was going to happen, today, tomorrow or next week, at least his children knew how much they meant to him. Why was it so hard to just do the same with Daryl – give him a hug and say “I love you”? What was holding him back? Fear? Pride? He couldn’t even tell. The entire situation was messed up and unbearable and it had to stop.

The front door fell shut behind him, when Rick was just packing a canteen of water into his backpack along with an apple and two flashlights.

         “Be right there”, he said without turning.

The girls were early, but the sooner they got this over with the better. 

         “Tara says yer goin’ on a run”, a familiar deep voice sounded behind him and had Rick momentarily freeze, before he straightened up and started fastening the straps of the backpack.

         “Yup”, he just replied without any further explanation.

Daryl wasn’t giving any himself anymore, never told him where he was going or where he had been, what he had planned for the day, what he was doing at all these days. He allegedly kept going on hunting trips, but the results were unnaturally poor.    
Rick had stopped asking – him or others alike. He would never get any clear answers and on top of it, he felt like people throughout town were giving him strange looks, _knowing_ looks. The kind of looks that had him suspect that something was going on behind his back and that he was the oblivious fool, the last one to know. 

“Last runs we went on were a waste a’ time, Rick”, Daryl said while he slowly approached him. “There’s barely anythin’ left out there.”

“I know that.” Rick cast the archer a stern side glance before focusing on his backpack again. “But _barely_ anything still’s better than nothing.” 

“Ain’t worth riskin’ yer life, or Tara ‘n’ Rosita’s.”

“Whadda you want me to do, Daryl?” Rick snapped, although his partner’s concern touched him.  “I gotta try.  We need food, simple as that.”

The older man lowered his eyes and took great interest in the tip of his shoes for a moment.

         “’m trying, Rick. Gonna do better, put up more snares, try in another part a’ the woods.

The leader’s anger evaporated and he took a step closer to the other man.

         “I know you’re trying”, he said softly, “but …”

He fell quiet and bit his tongue. Yes, _but._ What was he to tell Daryl now? That after weeks of poor hunting results he had lost faith in Daryl’s skills? Or that maybe they had entirely run out of luck now and there just wasn’t enough game in those woods anymore, so any further attempts were futile anyway? Or that he suspected for Daryl to not be hunting most of the time at all, but doing other stuff and things – with Aaron?

Rick pulled in a deep breath, hating every single one of these thoughts. Hating that their current situation even allowed them at all. 

         “But”, Daryl ended his partner’s sentence with a frustrated inflection, “ya don’t trust me no more.” 

         “I didn’t say that.”

         “Ya don’t have ta.”

A loud honk out front cut into this unpleasant exchange and announced Tara and Rosita’s arrival. 

         “Gotta go”, Rick said flatly while he slung the backpack over his shoulder. 

“Want me ta come?” the archer asked unexpectedly and had Rick look up in surprise.

He hadn’t expected the offer.

         “Ya said yerself the other day that goin’ out there was pretty stupid ‘n’ I agreed. Still do. ‘s dangerous shit ‘n’ prob’ly not even worth it, but … jus’ lemme help ya, man.”

Rick looked at his partner and the confusion this man stirred in him these days, pushed him off balance. He had always been 100% certain about his feelings for Daryl and vice versa, thought he knew him like hardly anyone else. But things had changed.  
Allegedly it was impossible to squish an unboiled egg as long as the shell was intact, no matter how much pressure was applied. And he used to think that his and Daryl’s relationship was like that. But the perfect, protective shell of their love had cracks and was likely to break any day now. It just took a little more pressure and it’d be gone.   
This was hardly the time to put it to the test, out there on a dangerous mission.  
          
         “Thanks”, Rick cautiously started declining the offer, “but the last runs we went on together ended with the stuff we found either being sunk or blown up.”  
He tried to make it sound like a joke, but the smile he forced never reached his eyes.  
         “I just don’t think we’re a pretty good team these days.”

For a moment the two men stood silently in front of each other, then the leader added softly.

         “We need to talk, Daryl. Tonight.”

         “Yeah, we do.”

Another silent moment passed, then Rick gave a curt nod and without another word headed to the door. When it closed behind him, he thought he heard Daryl say “Be safe” behind his back, but he wasn’t sure.

 

It was one of the worst runs Rick had ever been on and that was saying a lot.    
Of course, there had been worse – runs where they had lost people. But next to finding barely anything at all, food and other supplies alike, it had been way too close to ‘losing people’ twice. First they had been surprised by a group of walkers that had almost managed to corner them in the backroom of a small store and then the roof of a warehouse had collapsed a second after they had left the building.    
And for what? A couple of light bulbs and batteries and five cans of tuna. Daryl was right – this was most definitely not worth risking their lives for. 

Rick had called it quits, barely able not to yell in frustration. What were they going to tell people when they got home? They were running out of options and Rick shuddered when the thought crossed his mind, that Tara’s idea to improve their food situation might be the best, the _only_ way. They couldn’t feed the people of Alexandria _and_ the Saviors they held prisoner with the little food they still had in store.    
All color drained from his face when he pictured that ‘solution’. Was he supposed to line-up 29 men and women and just shoot them, including Negan? How would that make him any better than their enemy? How was he supposed to live with more blood on his hands, more death on his conscience, another easy solution when there could have been another way? If only he saw one.

With a heavy sigh he ran his hand through his curls, while he sat in the driver seat of the car, waiting for Tara and Rosita to return. After they had decided to head back, the girls had gone for a quick pit stop in the nearest bushes and Rick couldn’t help shaking his head for a second.    
The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. He recalled quite vividly how Lori had _always_ headed to the bathroom right before they had gone some place – be that a several hour drive or just a quick trip to the grocery store. She used to claim that it was easy for him to sneer about that, but that girls just had to take the opportunity when it was there, since they were not equipped with the device it took to  pee just _anywhere_. Fact, but Rick wasn’t expecting too much traffic on the road today heading back to Alexandria, so the ‘opportunity’ was sort of given at any time and any place. But if it made them feel better, what the heck. It was a good thing, he mused, that girls had adopted the habit to go pee in pairs even before the apocalypse – that sure came in handy these days. 

His thoughts drifted off while he was waiting. Shifted from women’s habits of relieving themselves back to the one matter that had been in the back of his mind all day. Daryl.   
Each time he had taken a glance to the passenger seat and found either of the girls there instead of his partner, he had been reminded. Just like every time he had taken a glance over his shoulder, looking for his backup, and found himself either alone or, again, with Tara or Rosita in Daryl’s accustomed place. He felt like a part of him was missing and wondered if a person could ever get used to being incomplete – and how long it would take till the pain would go away. If ever. 

The doors on the right-hand side of the car opened simultaneously as the two women returned, and a moment later Tara dropped into the passenger seat while Rosita climbed into the backseat.

         “’kay, ready to roll”, Tara said, pointing to the road ahead. “Whadda you got there?” she asked the next moment when she noticed Rick quickly stuffing an item back into the backpack that was sitting on his lap. 

         “Nothing.”

He handed the bag to Rosita and then started the car.

         “Whoa, hold it. Lemme see that”, Tara insisted and meant to reach for the backpack, but her hand was swatted instantly.

         “You still wanna keep that hand, right?”

Her eyes widened.

         “You’re kidding me. This isn’t … ?”

The look on his face gave him away.

         “It _is_?” Tara was in between amusement and disbelief. “You kept that cookie and even brought it along on a run?”

Wordlessly his hand came forward and reached into the inside pocket of her jacket. When he retrieved it, he held an orange can of soda in it and cast Tara a meaningful look.

         “You kept that _pop_ and even brought it along on a run?” he echoed.

She snatched it out of his hand and clearly considered asking him, too, now whether he cared to keep his hand or not. But in the end she didn’t when an understanding air crept onto her face.  
          
         “Good luck charm, huh?” she said softly and he nodded his head slowly.

In the backseat Rosita swallowed thickly and gently touched the necklace she was wearing. It was the one she had made for Abraham and that had been passed on to Sasha later. It hadn’t meant good luck for either one of them, but she kept telling herself that the echo of a person’s existence stuck to items that belonged to them or had had a meaning. Whether that was a necklace or a cookie made no difference – the meaning was the same. 

         “He loves you”, she said matter-of-factly and saw Rick’s eyes flick to the rearview mirror to cast her a wide-eyed look. 

         “What makes you say that?” he croaked.

         “Rick, I know you guys may have a few problems lately, but as long as you’re getting special gifts like that, the feeling’s still there.”

         “It’s just a cookie, Rosita.”

         “Uh-huh. And because it’s _just_ a cookie, you kept it all week and even brought it along on a run. Who are you trying to shit right now?” 

         “I didn’t say it meant nothing to _me_. I’m just not sure if Daryl … Never mind.” 

No. This was not up for discussion and most certainly not the girls’ business. He would go home now and talk to his partner. No one else. This was between him and Daryl and not some travel conversation.  
The next moment Tara’s fist connected painfully with his upper arm and had him flinch.  
          
         “Ouch, the hell was that for?”

         “Being an idiot”, she sassed.

He frowned and cast her a side glance, but before he could even open his mouth to reply, she added:

         “Eyes on the road, genius, and let’s go home already.”

They drove for a few minutes in silence, then she said suddenly:

         “Whatever it is, the problem, it’s half as bad as you think.”

         “How would you know?” Rick replied wearily.

         “He’s still alive.” 

Clutching the can of soda she looked out of the passenger side window, so he wouldn’t see the tears that pooled in her eyes, while Rick pressed his lips together and accelerated the car. He just wanted to go home.   
Tara and Denise. Sasha and Abraham. Maggie and Glenn. Aaron and Eric … It seemed like he and Daryl were one of the few surviving couples and he didn’t want to see their names on that list, too. Either way.


	3. Chapter 3

When Rick arrived at his house hours later, it was already dark out and so was the house. There were no windows alit and not a sound to be heard inside.    
With a frown the leader walked up the front steps and opened the door, hoping Daryl would stick to their agreement and be home. He would have liked to avoid this conversation, too, but it would only postpone the inevitable. 

It wasn’t as dark inside as he had expected. There was a soft light in the family room that flickered and sent dancing shadows across the walls and ceiling. The fireplace was lit! Rick loved the smell of burning wood, the spitting and crackling sound and the warm soothing glow a fire emitted. Despite the unpleasant confrontation ahead, his heart grew a little lighter.    
He took his shoes and jacket off and breathed in deep. 

         _Here goes nothing._

Bracing himself he stepped into the family room and stopped dead in his tracks, while his mouth gaped open. The pretty sight of the peacefully burning fire faded into the background when his eyes came to rest on the four stockings that hung side by side on the mantlepiece, right next to a decorated and equally alit Christmas tree.  
The bows, balls, ribbons and figurines were an odd assortment of decorations that didn’t match at all in style and color and yet it must have been the most beautiful Christmas tree Rick had ever seen, simply because it was _there_ at all.  
Apparently little Judith had _helped_ with it, too, because the majority of the decorations was sitting on the lower branches and hadn’t been put on them as neatly as Lori used to do. A bunch of elves seemed to be having a meeting on one and the same branch, while other spots were entirely empty, and the ribbons and a truck load of tinsel had more or less been tossed at the poor tree and had been left wherever they happened to get stuck.   
Rick loved it. Not just because it had the adorable charm of a toddler, but because her efforts had been respected and no one, neither Daryl nor Carl, had secretly _corrected_ them afterwards.   
For a moment longer the leader just looked at the tree with a warm, content feeling spreading in the pit of his stomach, when he heard a soft sound from the far corner of the room and took a closer look. His heart skipped a beat. Two even. And if the Grinch’s heart swelled two sizes, he was sure his just topped that by far.   
There was a large, comfortable recliner sitting in that corner and with the footrest propped up, Daryl was lying in it with little Judith securely wrapped in his arms. She had her face buried in the crock of his neck and the hand that held Bunno was resting on her papa’s chest, rising and falling to the rhythm of his even breathing. Snuggled up like that the two of them were both peacefully asleep. Next to the first time Rick had seen his newborn son, this must have been the most beautiful picture he’d even seen. Picture! 

Holding his breath and moving as quietly as he possibly could, he tiptoed to the shelf in the dining area to get the polaroid camera.    
About a year ago they had found several of them and various people in Alexandria had one around the house now. And what had they used them for ever since? To take pictures of death and destruction during the war instead of their loved ones. They should have taken photos of all the people they were likely to lose too soon, all the faces they would miss achingly and would never see again.    
If someone had taken a picture of Glenn, Maggie’s baby would grow up at least knowing what he looked like. If they had photos of Eric and Denise, Aaron and Tara had something to hold onto, something that might help them bear the loss.    
The images in all of their minds would fade, a little more with each passing day, and there’d come a time when no one would still remember precisely what all these faces looked like. Rick was going to make sure his family would last and he would start with Daryl and Judith right here and now. 

The sudden flash and sound of the developing picture startled Daryl out of his sleep and Rick hurried to whisper their all-clear signal. 

         “It’s me.”

         “The hell are you doin’?” the archer muttered sleepily.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes and then sat up slowly in order not to wake Judith.

         “Sorry”, Rick apologized for waking his partner and held the photo out to him. “I couldn’t resist. You two just looked too damn adorable.” 

         “Don’t think no one ever called me _damn adorable_ before”, Daryl grumbled, but then a smile tugged on his lips when he looked at the photo in his hand. 

He handed it back to Rick and then tried to get up with the sleeping toddler still on his arm. 

         “Want me to take her?”  
           
         “Nah.” Daryl protectively placed his hand on the girl’s golden locks as though he was afraid Rick would take her away nevertheless.   
         “Jus’ lemme hold her a li’l longer, please.”

         “Sure.” 

Rick couldn’t help frowning, while he held out his hand to pull the archer up. When they were standing in front of each other, the silence hung between them like a curtain – not the light voile kind, but a heavy brocade one. They both waited for the other one to speak first, but neither did. They were both at a lack for words.    
Finally Daryl said:

         “ ’m glad yer back. How was the run?”

         “Don’t ask.”

         “That good, huh? D’ya find anythin’ at all?” 

Rick sighed and dipped his head, shaking it frustrated.

         “No. Nothing even worth mentioning. You were right – those runs are a waste of time.”   
He pinched his nose with his thumb and index finger.   
         “What am I gonna tell people? I don’t know what else to do.”

A hand that was placed lightly onto this shoulder almost made him flinch, but when he lifted his head he looked straight into Daryl’s gentle blue eyes and relaxed instantly. His partner hadn’t looked at him that way in quite a while and although it was just one of these small gestures, Rick indulged in the feeling of Daryl’s hand on his shoulder – he was so thirsty for his man’s affection that he soaked in the slightest tenderness like a sponge.

         “Don’t worry too much”, Daryl said gently, his hand remaining on Rick’s shoulder. “’s gonna be okay.”

Rick sighed audibly. He did that way too often lately.

         “What makes you so sure?”

         “’s Christmas”, the older man offered. “Just make a wish.” 

Daryl was probably just trying to help, but that just now was definitely not the solution. Rick was too old to still believe in Santa and the magic of Christmas. And although the intention might have been good, he couldn’t help the slight annoyance that stirred inside of him now. He couldn’t go out there tomorrow and tell their people that he made a wish upon a star, so everything was good and well. 

After taking a step back and running his hand through his curls, Rick started pacing the room.

          “I don’t think that’s gonna help, Daryl”, he said, trying to hide his discontent. “Besides – what is all this?”  
He made a sweeping gesture to the stockings and the tree.  
         “I don’t think it’s Christmas yet.”

          “Makes ya think so?”

         “’cause Eric used ta have that watch. The one that showed the date ‘n’ Aaron told us ages ago that he kept track. For the history books – so we would know when it started …”

         “And when it ended, yeah. I know. But Eric’s dead”, Daryl said darkly as though Rick needed to be reminded.

         “Aaron continued keeping track”, Rick said and the look in his eyes as well as the way the sentence sort of hung in the air let Daryl know what he was thinking, although he knew better than to say it out loud.  
           
_“You should know, since you’re spending more time with him than with me lately.”_

Again there was silence between them for a moment, but before it had a chance to grow uncomfortable, Daryl gave one of his barely noticeable nods.

          “Yer right. It ain’t Christmas yet. I hadda do this sooner. It couldn’t wait, ‘cause … ya know … “

He was squirming and with the toddler still soundly asleep on his shoulder he stepped from one foot onto the other, searching for the right words.  
           
         “’cause things were gettin’ outta hand between us and … there’s somethin’ I need ta tell ya.”

All color drained from Rick’s face and unconsciously he held his breath. His heart started racing. 

         _Here it comes._

          “I lied to ya.”  
           
         _Oh, God, no …_

          “Walkers ain’t eaten ‘em bambies.”

It took Rick’s panicking mind a couple of seconds to process this information, while a confused frown spread over his face. This didn’t even come close to what he had expected – or rather dreaded. 

         “What?”

          “Reason I ain’t brought more game home ‘s that … I’s kinda busy with somethin’ else.”

Rick felt his knees turn to jelly as hope and dread seemed to be having a tug war with his heart. He wished Daryl would just say what he had to say – whatever it was. Right now he felt like he was standing in front of a firing squad and time and again the pulling of the trigger was being postponed.

          “I’s gonna wait till Christmas ta tell ya, but ya was so worried ‘bout the food ‘n’ even went on that damn run, riskin’ yer life … Don’t want ya out there no more, Rick. Not for stuff ‘n’ things that ain’t worth it.”

Hope again. What the heck was going on?

          “Daryl, I don’t understand a word of what you’re telling me.”

          “Maybe it’d be easier, if I showed ya somethin’ first. Think I know what yer Christmas wish would be.”

Rick’s heart was beating even harder than before now and he swallowed thickly.  
All he really wanted for Christmas was standing right in front of him, but he was afraid to say that out loud. So instead he wishes for the food they needed.

          “Take a look out back.”

Daryl’s voice derailed his train of thought and it hurt how much these words sounded like the answer to Rick’s wish. To the surrogate wish.    
Hope once again. 

Reluctantly the leader walked over to the back door and peeked out into the darkness. By the light of the fireplace and the Christmas tree Rick could see a pick-up truck parked in the narrow space between their house and the wall, the truck bed covered with a large tarp.    
Like a puppet on a string he was magically being pulled towards the door, opened it and approached the vehicle with a tingling sensation in his fingers and toes. Hope kept on pulling him forward and he hesitated only a second before he lifted the tarp to take a look inside.    
His sight blurred instantly when he saw baskets and crates full of apples, pears, corn, potatoes and a couple of sacks of sorghum. 

         “With best regards from Maggie and Jesus”, Daryl said behind him. 

He was standing in the doorway, his arms firmly wrapped around little Judith to shield her from the cold, and when Rick turned around to him with suspiciously shining eyes, a smile found its way onto the archer’s face.

         “See, yer wish came true after all.”

Rick nodded with slight hesitation. Food. A chance for all the people living in this town – including the Saviors – to make it through the winter. A chance. That was a start. If only Rick’s one big wish would come true as well. 

He covered the supplies with the tarp again, happy to be able to distribute some joy to their people tomorrow, and then hurried back inside. The moment he had closed the door behind him, he threw all caution to the wind and pulled Daryl into a hug.

         “Thank you”, he breathed into his ear. 

Judith stirred and gave a whimper in her sleep when being the middle part of this daddy sandwich became uncomfortable and reluctantly Rick released his partner again. 

         “Thank you”, he repeated, still not comprehending how this was possible. 

         “Ya should be thankin’ Maggie ‘n’ Jesus. And Aaron”, Daryl replied with a shy smile. “They gave us more than ‘em two deer he took over there today were worth. Mags sorta trusted ma word that I’s gonna hunt more for ‘em throughout the winter ‘n’ I guess Jesus tossed in one or two crates extra. He ‘n’ Aaron are really hittin’ it off, case ya didn’t know.” 

The surprised expression on Rick’s face didn’t go unnoticed and a shadow spread over the archer’s face. 

         “I know what ya been thinkin’. ‘bout Aaron ‘n’ me.”   
He lowered his eyes and stared at he ground, chewing his bottom lip for a moment.  
         “Can’t blame ya for not trustin’ me no more”, he croaked. “Ain’t given ya too many reasons to lately. Jus’ want ya ta know that yer wrong. Ain’t nothin’ between me ‘n’ Aaron. We’s just friends.” 

A wave of relief and shame alike washed over Rick and helplessly he reached out to Daryl, only to pull his hands back the next second, desperately trying to come up with something to say. He was so incredibly confused that his mind was spinning.   
He should have trusted Daryl and yet, wasn’t it understandable that he had not? Then again – this was the man who had never let him down before. How could he possibly think he would be cheating on him? Because he had gone behind his back during the war? Had he really? Daryl had never kept his plan a secret and had told Rick to the face that attacking the Sanctuary was what he was going to do, what he _had_ to do. How was that going behind his back? But something had been going on without Rick’s knowledge these past weeks. Something …

“Stop thinkin’ so hard”, Daryl’s voice cut into the silence. “Can almost hear the li’l wheels squealin’ in there.” 

He rocked the toddler on his arm gently when Judith stirred once more and securely tucked Bunno between her cheek and his neck, so she could snuggle up to the stuffed bunny. When she settled again and with a soft sigh went back to her sound slumber, Daryl pulled in a deep breath and said almost inaudibly:

         “There was somethin’ I hadda do. Somethin’ that took lots a’ time ‘n’ effort. ‘s why I couldn’t go huntin’ as much as I used ta. There’s still enough game out there, Rick, so don’t worry. ‘s like I said – ‘m gonna do better from now on.”

         “I don’t get all this, Daryl. You were out there almost every day from dawn till dusk. If you didn’t go hunting, then what …”

         “Got somethin’ for ya”, Daryl cut in.

He lifted his head and looked Rick straight in the eyes in a way he hadn’t done in a while. Then he turned on his heels, headed to the Christmas tree and retrieved a nicely wrapped gift that had been sitting hidden behind it.   
It was flat, no thicker than a man’s thumb, about 30 inches wide and 25 inches high and when Rick accepted it with wide eyes he felt that it was surprisingly light. 

         “Merry Christmas”, the archer said softly. “I’s gonna give it to ya, well, on Christmas, but it couldn’t wait no longer. Wanted ya ta have it today.” 

With his head still spinning Rick took a closer look at the present and couldn’t help grinning at the wrapping paper. 

         “Squirrels?”

Daryl shrugged.

         “Yeah, sorry. We’s out a’ Christmas wrappin’ paper ‘n’ ya wouldn’t believe the stuff Tobin’s got in his house.”

This made Rick actually chuckle for a moment.  
           
         “I would.” He cast Daryl a long look. “I like the paper – it’s very much … _you._ ”

         “Damn, ya shoulda told me earlier yer into stuff like that. Jus’ givin’ ya some fuckin’ squirrel gift wrap woulda been helluva lot easier. – Ya gonna open that present now or what?” 

Rick couldn’t help staring for a moment, completely mesmerized by the way his partner was standing there in front of the Christmas tree with their still peacefully sleeping daughter in his arms, ranting like in the good old times. This just now was so Daryl, _his_ Daryl, that he had to swallow back new tears. God, all he really, really, really wanted was his lover back – wrapped in squirrel gift wrap or in nothing at all, he didn’t even care.    
The picture of Daryl wrapped in nothing _but_ squirrel gift wrap invaded his mind suddenly and caused an awkward reaction in his pants, so he quickly averted his eyes and rather focused on the present.    
He let himself sink onto the couch, placed the gift on his lap and started peeling off the sticky tape in order not to rip the gift wrap. He actually did plan to keep it.

Daryl watched him silently. He appeared to be calm on the outside, but inside there was a raging chaos of emotions he was barely able to control – and it had been that way for months now. 

         _“You gotta let yourself feel”,_ Carol had told him a long time ago. 

And he had. Had allowed all these emotions, even those that had been entirely alien to him before – before the apocalypse, before Rick, before all of the people he called friends and family now. Trust, love, affection.    
Merle had been right – emotions of that kind were dangerous. They made a person vulnerable and yet Daryl had taken that chance, had loved and trusted, and had learned the hard way that every medallion had two sides.    
Someone who doesn’t trust, cannot be betrayed. And a heart that never loved, cannot be hurt and broken, cannot suffer the way his had when losing beloved people.    
There’d been many times he had wanted to go back to the days when he had felt nothing. And then again – avoiding the darkness, meant losing the light, too. One without the other didn’t exist and he had lived in twilight too long before the apocalypse.    
If only this vortex of emotions wouldn’t confuse him so much, let him spin out of control and lose his way. Rick had been his fixed point, the one steady thing in his life, the reason his life had a meaning at all.    
Rick had trusted him since the day they’d met – until just recently things between them had changed and that was probably his, Daryl’s, fault. He hadn’t given Rick too many reasons to still trust him and in consequence he might have lost his love, too. 

The leader had successfully pulled off the strips of sticky tape without ripping the paper and now carefully unwrapped the gift.   
It was a canvas and when Rick pulled the paper aside, he was looking at the backside. He flipped it over and the next moment gasped audibly. His hands started shaking and he was breathing fitfully in the attempt to hold back the tears that were pooling in his eyes. To no avail – they started running down his cheeks the next moment and he wiped the back of his hand over his face quickly to avoid them from falling onto the picture.

It was a drawing. A collage of various faces – faces he hadn’t seen in years, faces that had disappeared just recently and some that were still around. They were all there – Carl, Judith, Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, Sasha, Abraham, Enid, Carol, Sophia, Aaron, Eric, Tara, Denise, Rosita, Morgan, Gabriel, Beth, Hershel, Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, Tyreese, Shane, Lori and Rick himself. 

Despite his best attempt to compose himself, Rick sobbed and ran the tip of his finger almost tenderly over some of these faces.    
Lori and Shane – he had never expected to see them again. Glenn – God they had a picture of Glenn to show to Maggie’s child. Wasn’t this exactly what he’d been wishing for – a picture of all these faces so they wouldn’t fade from people’s memories, would still be a part of this world, for all of them to see although most of them were gone? 

         “How?” he stammered, swallowing against the raspy sensation in his throat. 

         “Lots a’ peeps here done takin’ polaroid pics a’ people these past months. Of our own as well as the others, when we was all preparin’ together during the war. I’s in every house, talked ta ‘em all ‘n’ Carl, Aaron, Rosita, Tara ‘n’ the others – they all helped findin’ ‘n’ borrowin’ ‘em pics.”

He slowly walked over to where Rick was sitting on the couch and lowered himself to the leader’s side, looking at the drawing in Rick’s hand with a thoughtful air on his face. He ran his own fingertip over the images of Beth and Denise, before he swallowed against the lump in his throat and continued his explanation.

         “There’s a girl over in the Kingdom – Nabila. She did this. I sat with her for hours, days, describin’ the faces a’ people we already lost. So did Carol. And a few times we took her over to Hilltop so she could draw Maggie ‘n’ Enid ‘n’ … well, Mags can describe Glenn like no one else.”

He dared reach out a hand and placed it gently on Rick’s thigh.

         “It ain’t done yet. I needed ta go huntin’ for that deal with Hilltop today, so ya ain’t got to go on runs no more. ‘n no one else, either. But Nabila was gonna put some things in there, too. Ya know, trademarks. Carl still needs ta get his hat ‘n’ Michonne the katana …”   
“And we need Bunno in there for Judy”, he added with a smile before he placed a loving kiss on the girl’s blonde curls.

Rick couldn’t tear his eyes away from the drawing. This must have been the most beautiful, most precious, most meaningful picture he had ever seen. And Daryl had given it to him as a gift. Had sensed how much Rick missed seeing all these faces and that he still blamed himself for the death of most of these people. And despite withdrawing again lately, Daryl had been to every house and all three communities to make this happen. There were no words to express how much this meant.

A frown appeared on Rick’s face suddenly.

         “You’re not there”, he said stunned when he searched the drawing for his partner’s face in vain. 

Just when he cast the archer a questioning glance, Daryl croaked:  
           
         “I wasn’t sure ya still wanted me there.”

Rick felt as though he’s been punched in the guts and all of sudden he understood why Daryl was clutching Judith for dear life. _“We need to talk”,_ that’s what Rick had said to him before he had left that morning.    
Daryl was expecting for Rick to break up with him tonight. To take the children, his family, his everything away from him.

         “Why wouldn’t I want you there?” the leader replied in an equally choked voice.

         “’cause I ain’t the man no more I used ta be. The one ya thought worth a’ yer trust ‘n’ affection.”

         “But you are.”

Rick placed his hand on top of Daryl’s, but it was pulled back almost instantly, making the leader’s heart ache all over. 

         “I let ya down, Rick. When ya needed me the most, I’s not there for ya.”

         “No, you were right – I wasn’t listening to you anymore. You told me your opinion, filled me in on your plan and I knew why you had to do what you did. But I wouldn’t listen. – I screwed up.”

He lifted his hand and dared cup Daryl’s cheek and this time the archer allowed the touch without flinching.

         “I’m sorry, Daryl. I shoulda known better.” 

         “Think there’s still a chance for us?”

The ghost of a smile flashed over the leader’s handsome face.  
           
         “If there wasn’t, you wouldn’t be asking that question”, he said softly.

         “Yeah, well, if there is just answer the damn question, Grimes.”

This typical Daryl response had a smile tug on Rick’s lips once again and with a ton load of sorrow falling off his chest, he leaned in and rested his forehead against Daryl’s.

         “Hell, yeah.”

         “’s ma line.”

Rick chuckled.

         “Whatever’s yours is mine too, remember?” 

         “That deal sucks”, Daryl grumbled, but Rick felt rather than saw the smile that played around the archer’s lips. 

For an incredibly long moment they just sat like that, with their foreheads against each other, breathing in each other’s breath, feeling each other’s warmth and their little daughter snuggled up between them.   
After a while they slowly sat back and looked each other in the eyes quietly, in a way they hadn’t done in a long time. And here, in front of Alexandria’s first Christmas tree since the apocalypse started, the curtain lifted, the glass panel between them shattered and the silence wasn’t awkward any longer. They communicated wordlessly again, the way they’d been able to ever since their souls had become one such a long time ago, and in that moment the crack that had weakened their perfect love started to heal.

         “Ya was right, ya know. When ya called me an asshole the other day”, Daryl said unexpectedly.

         “I shouldn’t have said that. Never meant it, either.”

         “Still – ‘s true. ‘cause, ya know, in all a’ ‘em years we’ve been together I never said … I jus’ never had the balls ta tell ya how fuckin’ much I luv ya.”

Rick’s lips were on his the next second – soft, tender and longing – while he wrapped his arms around Daryl and pulled him close. Their tongues met, greeting each other like old friends who hadn’t been together in way too long.

         “Bunno gets a kissy, too?” 

A drowsy young voice in between of them broke them apart and after casting each other a look, whose intensity said more than a thousand words, they turned to their daughter with happy smiles on their faces. 

         “Sure Bunno gets a kiss”, Daryl said, before placing a hearty smooch on the stuffed animal’s head, with Rick following suit. 

         “And Judy gets one, too”, the leader added and simultaneously both men placed another smooch on either of Judith’s cheeks.

She giggled. 

         “Tickles.”

         “Yeah?” Daryl gave her little nose a gentle nudge with his index finger. “Wait till the smooch monster gets ya.”

That said he started planting a volley of kisses on the girl’s face and neck, which made her giggle and squeal in turns. 

         “You killing one of the pigs in here or what?” Carl’s amused voice sounded from the doorway.

         “Hey”, Rick greeted him with a grin. “Right on time for a little pre-Christmas party.”   
He got up and approached his son.    
         “C’mere you”, he said, while he took the sheriff’s hat off Carl’s head and pulled the teenager into his arms. “I take it you knew about this long before me, huh?” 

         “Guilty as charged.”

The boy returned the hug and winked at Daryl behind his dad’s back.

         “You guys are good?” he asked softly.

         “We will be”, Rick replied when he released his son. 

He cast a glance to the archer, who was sitting next to the beautiful drawing with Li’l Asskicker on his lap and had just started a smooch monster attack on Bunno.

         “We _are_.”

         “Thank God. Man, you two were a real pain in the …”

         “Hey!” Daryl cut him short. “If ya want somethin’ from Santa, better watch yer mouth ‘round yer sis, Gordo.” 

Carl couldn’t help chuckling. Lectures on manners and the use of swear words coming from Daryl was definitely setting a fox to keep the geese. 

         “Yes, mom”, he sassed while he strolled over to the couch.   
He cast the picture that was sitting on the coffee table a thoughtful look and then added:   
         “Frankly I think I did good enough for Santa.”

Daryl looked up to him with one of his tiny, barely visible smiles.

         “Ya did, kiddo. Ya definitely did.”

He held his fist out to him and with a chuckle Carl touched his to it. 

         “You’re spending too much time with Tara. – Speaking of which.”    
He looked over his shoulder to his father.   
         “Tara found a cool new dartboard and a few DVDs on one of the runs the other day. She and Rosita invited me over. Can I go?”

         “Girls night, huh?” Daryl teased and for a moment was at the receiving end of a teenager scowl.

          “What DVDs?” Rick asked with his concerned father inflection and both Carl and Daryl cast him a meaningful look.

         “Man, Rick, even if ‘twas _The chainsaw massacre”_ – ya done takin’ a look out the window lately? That kid grew up with _zombies_ , so whatever damage that shit does, ‘s already done.”

With a grin the leader approached his son and placed the sheriff’s hat back on his head.

         “Don’t see any damage there”, he said gently. “Go ahead.”

         “Cool. Thanks, dad.”

He bent to place a loving kiss on his sister’s head and for a long, silent moment locked eyes with Daryl.   
It had taken him a while back then to get used to the thought that his father dumped his mom for a guy. Even more so – for an unkempt redneck with manners that his mom had called _non-existent._ He’d been too young to understand, but had made his peace with the situation when he noticed both his mom and his dad being happier with their new partners than they had been with each other in years.   
The more he had gotten to know Daryl, the more he had come to understand what his father saw in him. And soon _unkempt_ had chanced to being _unique_ in his eyes and _grumpy_ and _unsocial_ had turned into _cool._  
Carl loved Daryl, same as he had loved Shane. His father’s best friends had both grown on him, had become uncles, friends, two more men he looked up to.  
And yet, maybe Daryl had become even more. – On the day in the Sanctuary when despite the situation the archer had been in, despite the torture and pain he was already put through, Daryl had stood up to Negan, even threatened him, to protect Carl. Something a father would do, and ever since that day this was exactly what Carl saw in him. Another dad. Judith had called him ‘papa’ since the day she knew how to say that word and maybe one day, if he found the courage, he’d call Daryl that, too. It felt right already.

         “See you in the morning”, Carl said to his father when he passed him on the way to the door, but Daryl’s voice behind him made him stop.

         “Hey, kiddo.” He gestured to the patch over Carl’s eye. “Ya got a li’l disadvantage there playin’ darts ‘n’ Tara knows that. Bet she’s expectin’ an easy win. – Go stomp her ass.”

Carl broke out laughing and gave Daryl a thumbs-up.

         “You bet.”

He was almost out the door when the archer called after him:

         “If Rosita’s DVD’s stuff like _Fifty Shades a’ Grey_ , tell her _I’m_ gonna come over there ‘n’ stomp _her_ ass.”

Laughing even harder the teenager pulled the door closed behind himself and was gone the next moment. 

         “Damn”, Daryl muttered under his breath while he cast Rick a look. “Ya do realize he ain’t even asked what _Fifty Shades a’ Grey_ is, right? That ship’s already sailed, man.”  

Rick suppressed a smirk. He downright loved it when Daryl was in the protective super-dad mode and he’d been doing a better job over the years than he probably gave himself credit for.    
The way the archer was sitting there with their little blonde angel on his lap, holding her close and gently swaying to rock her back to sleep, was a picture Rick swore to never forget for as long as he lived. 

         “Mind if I took another picture of the two of you?” 

Daryl wrinkled his nose.

         “Take a pic of her. I ain’t got no face for photos, man.”

Rick’s eyebrows went up. 

         “Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder and that would be me”, he replied stubbornly. “I love your face and I want it in that drawing, too, by all means. – And now shut up and let me take that photo.” 

Daryl humored him due to a lack for arguments that would make Rick just back off and spare him this procedure. When the picture was fully developed, the leader looked at it fondly for a long moment with a smile playing around his lips.    
Daryl relaxed back into the sofa cushions and couldn’t help smiling, too. If a simple photo of his mug was able to bring a smile back to Rick’s face, it was sure worth suffering that awkward procedure.

         “Something’s not right in that pic”, the younger man said suddenly, while he placed the polaroid on the coffee table.

Daryl cast it a glance and cringed when he looked at his own tired features, the too long shaggy hair, the bags underneath his eyes, the bruises and scratches they all seemed to be having permanently these days and the graying facial hair he had to let pass as beard, due to the inability to grow a decent one like Rick. 

         “Yeah, sure ain’t”, he grumbled. “There’s a hobgoblin or somethin’ in that picture.” 

Rick cast a glance at it and then said:

         “No, I think Judy looks adorable.”

         “Idiot”, Daryl replied when he noticed Rick suppressing a grin, but there was clearly an amused sparkle in his shadow blue eyes, too.

         “I meant there’s something missing”, the leader said softly. “Hold up. I’ve got a present for you, too.”

He hurried out of the family room, up the stairs to the master bedroom and returned a minute later with another neatly wrapped gift.

         “Happy pre-Christmas”, he said with a smile while he held it out to Daryl. 

With a questioning glace he held out his hands to lift Judith off the archer’s lap and this time Daryl nodded. She had fallen asleep again and he placed a soft kiss on her curls, before Rick lifted her up and gave him the chance to open the present.  
Daryl chuckled when he looked at the gift wrap.  
           
         “Happy Hanukah?”

Rick laughed lightly.

         “Like you said – you wouldn’t believe the kind of stuff Tobin has in his house. And he seems to be the only one with gift wrap around this town at all. It was between this or Sponge Bob.”

         “Sponge Bob’s cool.”

         “I was afraid you’d say that. I’ll keep that in mind for your birthday.” 

         “Uh-huh, you do that.”

He pretended not to notice Rick’s eyeroll and then started opening the gift. He wasn’t nearly as careful with the paper as his partner had been, despite the fact that gift wrap was one of the gazillion things that were rare these days. But he hadn’t gotten too many Christmas presents in his life yet – in fact, this was the first – and he was eager to see what it was. 

When the paper fell aside, he pulled a soft piece of clothing out of it and held it up with wide eyes.

          “’s ma angel wing vest.”

          “It’s nothing new, sorry. But I thought you should have this back. It’s …”

         “’s great, Rick. That douchebag Dwight said he lost it.”

         “He did. Sort of. I pretty much ripped it off his back. Told him it was never his to begin with and he had best kept his mouth shut, since it was supposed to be a surprise for you.” 

A grin spread over Daryl’s face.

         “I punched him in his ugly mug when he said he lost it.”

The two of them grinned at each other and said simultaneously “Oops”, which made them both chuckle. 

The archer ran his palm gently over the piece of clothing, happy to have one of the few things back he owned at all.  
           
         “Looks way cleaner than before. Did ya have him wash it, too?”

         “Should have, but I rather did it myself. Did some stitches to that cut in the back, too, and scrubbed the wings till they were white again.”   
He pulled in a deep breath.   
         “I wanted you to have your wings back. It’s stupid, I know, but I thought … Dunno, that I’d get a bit of _you_ back that way and … Never mind. Like I said, it’s stupid.”

Daryl got up, put the vest back on and then indulged in the feeling of the familiar weight on his back and shoulders.     
He didn’t think it was stupid at all, because the moment he was wearing that vest again, he felt different. As though an echo of his old, of his _true_ self was woven into this piece of clothing and the shining white wings were driving the darkness inside of him away.    
And then again – maybe that wasn’t the vest. Maybe it was the fact that it had been returned to him as a gift from someone who seemed to love him very much. Something he hadn’t dared hope for during these past months, something he hadn’t expected to deserve any longer. It wasn’t him getting his wings back that made the difference. It was getting his wingman back, his best friend, his partner, the love of his life. 

With shining eyes he wrapped his arms around the leader’s waist and pulled him close. When he pressed the side of his head to Rick’s, his long dark strands mixed with the auburn curls and for a long moment they just stood like that, quietly, motionless, while their hearts and souls communicated the way they used to. 

Judith stirring on Rick’s arm and yawning audibly, right before she tucked her thumb in her mouth, broke the magic and had the two men take a step back.    
Daryl ran his hand soothingly over the girl’s back.

         “Best put her to bed. ‘s late.”

Rick nodded and turned on his heels to head to the stairs. In the doorway he cast a look over his shoulder to see if Daryl was following and his heart skipped a beat when he found him back in his accustomed spot, that one step behind his shoulder.

         “Go ahead”, the archer said, nodding towards the stairs. “’m gonna turn the lights off. Be right there.” 

Rick cast another look at the _unique_ Christmas tree and a smile spread over his face again.

         “I love that tree, by the way. Judy sure did a great job decorating it.”

         “Makes ya think Judy did that?” 

Rick eyes lingered that moment longer on the accumulation of elves on one and the same branch, the way the star on the crooked tip was leaning to the side, the almost sickening clash of colors and the way the tinsel seemed to have been shot at that tree with a confetti gun. He couldn’t help chuckling.   
Daryl might have been kidding right now, but then again – maybe this was the Dixon way of decorating a Christmas tree. Either way – it was great just the way it was. 

Right before he was about to finally head upstairs a thought crossed his mind and he turned back to the archer. 

         “Take Judith”, he said softly.

Without asking, Daryl complied and then watched fascinated how Rick hurried into the hallway, came back in with his backpack and started rummaging in it until one of their Tupper Ware boxes made an appearance. Rick took it into the kitchen, retrieved something from it and worked on that mysterious item with a chopstick and a thin stripe of cloth he had simply cut off of one of their dish towels. 

         “Hey, MacGyver”, Daryl addressed him with an amused frown, “the kid needs ta sleep. Whadda ya doin’?”

         “Adding another piece of decoration to the tree”, the leader responded, right before he held up his precious chocolate chip cookie and took it over to their Christmas tree.   
         “There. Perfect.”

Daryl appeared by his side and first cast the new _piece of decoration_ and then his partner a meaningful look.

         “Yer shittin’ me, right? Puttin’ good food like that on a damn tree? What’s the matter with ya?” 

Rick shrugged unimpressed.  
           
         “Lori used to put strings of popcorn on our Christmas tree when Carl was little. It was tradition and he loved it.”

         “If I’d had popcorn when I’s little, I sure as hell wouldn’ta put it on some tree.” He shrugged. “Never had no tree, either, so that decision never occurred. But that cookie there’s a no go, man.” 

Rick looked at his choice of decoration thoughtfully.

         “You don’t understand. It’s …”

         “Ya bet I don’t. And accordin’ to yer own reasonin’ whatever’s yers is mine, too, right? So half a’ that cookie’s mine.”

This had a smile spread over Rick’s face despite himself.

         “That cookie’s old, Daryl. You wouldn’t want to eat that any longer anyway.”

         “Believe me, I would.”

And then it finally registered. Shadow blue eyes widened and the archer’s head whipped around suddenly.

          “Wait a sec. This ain’t _the_ cookie, right?”

         “Yeah, it is.”

Daryl’s mouth gaped open for a moment. Then he shook his head and grumbled:

         “So this ‘s how ya value Carol’s cookies? Yer pokin’ holes in ‘em ‘n’ hang ‘em in some damn tree? ‘s the last time I shared with ya, man.”

He turned on his heels to take Judith up to her room, while Rick turned the lights of the tree off behind him. Daryl waited for him in the doorway and by the light of the dying fire in the fireplace he nudged Rick’s shoulder gently the moment the leader stood next to him.

         “Jus’ so ya know – I get it. But next time ‘m gonna give ya some stuff I wouldn’t eat anyway – Butterfinger or so. That ya can carry ‘round with ya till Kingdom comes for all I care.”   
Shaking his head he proceeded to the stairs.   
         “Can’t believe ya put ma cookie in a fuckin’ tree.”

Chuckling Rick followed him, sure to never hear the end of this. 

 

After they had put Li’l Asskicker to bed and the door to the nursery was securely shut, the two men walked slowly across the corridor to their bedroom door.    
Their feet seemed to grow heavier with each step they took and both pulse rates had picked up considerably. Without looking at each other, they both stopped in front of the door as though they had frozen and hardly dared breath, let alone move or say a word.    
Seconds passed, then a minute, maybe two. Finally Daryl croaked:

         “What I did to ya the other night …”

         “Ssh.” Rick turned to him and placed his index finger on the other man’s lips to silence him.   
         “Don’t say it. I did the same, but that wasn’t us. That was the war. And the war is over. No sense dwelling on things.” 

         “But it’s still in there”, Daryl knocked his fist a few time against the side of his head. “Can’t get it out. Can’t forget. – I didn’t know what I can do.”

         “Same.”    
Rick got hold of Daryl’s wrist, so the archer would stop hitting himself, and then he slipped his fingers into the balled fist, gently forcing it open.   
         “We need to make new memories. Better ones. I don’t think we’ll ever be able to forget, but we can cover the bad stuff with a layer of good.

He saw doubt and fear in his partner’s eyes, so he leaned his forehead gently against Daryl’s. 

         “It’s worth a try. It’s not gonna get easier if we wait any longer.” 

The archer pulled in a deep breath and nodded hesitatingly. 

         “Whatever ya say, goes.”

         “No. Whatever we decide together goes.”

Again they just looked at each other in the twilight, the corridor illuminated only by a small night light.    
Rick turned the knob of their bedroom door and pushed it open, tugging on Daryl’s hand to follow him inside. As soon as they were, the leader closed the door behind them and again there was silence as they stood motionless in front of each other like a couple of virgins before their first time – clueless and undecided what to do.    
Simultaneously they both lifted a hand and started touching – fingers ran through the other one’s hair, the back of a hand caressed a cheek, a palm applied tender strokes to the chest or upper arm. They didn’t speak, almost held their breath and every move was slow and cautious.    
Rick started opening the buttons of his shirt first, but after only two of them had been undone, Daryl’s hands covered his and shoved them gently away to take over. He took his time, opened each button as though they were made of glass and he needed to be extra careful. When the task was completed he pushed the piece of clothing off his partner’s shoulders and let his palms run over Rick’s chest and stomach in a feather-light caress, barely applying any pressure at all.    
He didn’t stop when the leader’s fingers started undoing his shirt in like ways, just drew small circles over the younger man’s skin, traced every rip, every strong muscle and the hardened nipples, all the while watching Rick’s face closely for any trace of discomfort.    
When both shirts had come off, they sank into each other’s arms and just hugged tightly for a moment, pressing close and indulging in the feeling of skin against skin and the tapping of the other’s heart so close to their own.    
Taking their pants off took even longer than the shirts and by the time they stood naked in front of each other they had goosebumps all over their body. It was chilly in the room and the only hurried motion they made at all that night was crawling under the covers.    
Instantly their hands started roaming again, warm and tender and in no way eager to force or demand anything. They were building bridges, sending signals to the other’s soul to find the way back to each other. There was no plan, no goal other than making memories that were worth recalling.    
Soft lips touched and once again their tongues greeted each other, danced around and with each other in a perfect choreography that came with the years and familiarity.    
Their hearts were beating lighter and more in sync by the minute as the dread that the old, dark memories entailed started seeping out of them with each caress, each tender kiss, each soft moan.    
The gap between them started closing – the one in their souls and the one between their bodies alike.    
An arm was wrapped over the other man’s side, a leg over the other one’s thigh and when they lay pressed against each other, firmly wrapped into their lover’s arms, the intimate parts of their bodies responded to each other as well.    
Without a word, without hesitation, without fear they started moving their hips, grinding against each other in perfect sync until they came together; their cries sounds of pleasure this time, not pain.    
They lay silently in each other’s arm afterwards, indulging in the aftermath of their lovemaking, happy that this time there was in fact lots of love involved in what they had done.    
Rick’s head rested on Daryl’s broad chest while he listened to the strong thumping of the archer’s heart close to his ear. He had never paid as close attention to that sound as he did now, smiling to himself. This wasn’t just any rhythm, not just the ordinary sound each human heart made fulfilling its biological purpose – this was music. At least it was to Rick’s ear, because this heart was beating for him. How could this not be the most beautiful sound on Earth?

         “Of all the faces down there in that picture”, the leader said unexpectedly, “yours is the only one I couldn’t bear not seeing for real anymore.”

         “Man, ya really need glasses.” 

Rick smiled about the typical grumpy Dixon reply, especially since it came accompanied by a kiss to his head.

         “ All those nights you thought I was asleep when you came to bed – did you kiss me then, too?” he dared ask, even though that meant giving away that he’d only been pretending.

         “Nah”, Daryl replied while he snuggled up even closer. “I kissed ya although I knew ya _wasn’t_ asleep.”

Rick chuckled softly. Was he really surprised? 

         “I’m not asleep now, either, you know.”

         “Ya ain’t sayin’.” 

Daryl’s lips were still curved into a smile when they met Rick’s.

         “Merry Christmas”, the younger man whispered when they lay still and drowsily in each other’s arms.

         “Ain’t Christmas yet.”

         “Right.” For a moment Rick was quiet, then he added: “If this was just the pre-Christmas day, I can’t wait for Christmas.”

“Pff, yeah, just don’t expect ta get any more cookies from me, man.” 

Rick broke out laughing. He _would_ never hear the end of this.

         “I love you.”

He thought he heard the rhythmic thumping of Daryl’s heart pick up its pace for a moment and that was even more music to his ear than before. 

         “Luv ya, too. Sorry it hadda take a war first ‘fore I finally grew the balls ta tell ya.”

         “You didn’t have to. I’ve always known.”

         “Yeah? How?”

         “Well, first of all - I know you don’t share your precious cookies with just anyone.”

“Don’t get me started.”

Unimpressed Rick continued.

“And tossing a string of squirrels …”  
           
         “Ah, shut up, Grimes.”

Smiling to himself once more, Rick decided to let it rest. He didn’t have to sum up all the reasons why they loved each other and how they knew. They just did, because their souls had that very special way of communicating with each other that made words unnecessary. 

Snuggled up and content in each other’s arms they drifted off to sleep. A sleep that was peaceful again, because the nightmare before Christmas was finally over. 

 


	4. Art Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot to my friend and test reader, the wonderful ssyn3, for another lovely drawing!!

[](http://de.tinypic.com?ref=15mkz0p)

**I'd like to wish all of you wonderful, peaceful and merry holidays and all the best for 2018!!**

**It was another painful year in this fandom LOL, but also immense fun writing and sharing fanfic stories with you all. I'm grateful for each and every one of you lovely people out there, who's been taking the time to read my stuff and leave me comments and kudos. You have no idea how much that means! Thank you!!**

**XOXO**


	5. Art Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My wonderful friend and test reader Barbie/ssyn3 just gave me this beautiful drawing for my birthday and I had to let you lovely people see it. It's just too cute to keep it all to myself. Thank you so much, dear, for this terrific present! Luv ya.

[](http://de.tinypic.com?ref=m9p1rs)


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